Of many-languaged men: they lived of old
When Saturn reign’d in heaven, an age of gold.
Like gods they lived, with calm untroubled mind;
Free from the toils and anguish of our kind:
Nor e’er decrepid age mishaped their frame,
The hand’s, the foot’s proportions still the same.
Strangers to ill, their lives in feasts flow’d by:
[42]Wealthy in flocks; dear to the blest on high:
Dying they sank in sleep, nor seem’d to die.
Theirs was each good; the life-sustaining soil