Happy that first white age! when we
Lived by the earth's mere charity;
No soft luxurious diet then
Had effeminated men—
No other meat nor wine had any
Than the coarse mast, or simple honey;
And, by the parents' care laid up,
Cheap berries did the children sup.
No pompous wear was in those days,
Of gummy silks, or scarlet baize.
Their beds were on some flowery brink,
And clear spring water was their drink.
The shady pine, in the sun's heat,
Was their cool and known retreat;
For then 'twas not cut down, but stood
The youth and glory of the wood.
The daring sailor with his slaves
Then had not cut the swelling waves,
Nor, for desire of foreign store,
Seen any but his native shore.
No stirring drum had scared that age,
Nor the shrill trumpet's active rage;
No wounds, by bitter hatred made,
With warm blood soiled the shining blade;
For how could hostile madness arm
An age of love to public harm,
When common justice none withstood,
Nor sought rewards for spilling blood?
Oh that at length our age would raise
Into the temper of those days!
But—worse than Aetna's fires!—debate
And avarice inflame our state.
Alas! who was it that first found
Gold hid of purpose under ground—
That sought out pearls, and dived to find
Such precious perils for mankind?
REGENERATION.
1 A ward, and still in bonds, one day
I stole abroad;
It was high spring, and all the way
Primrosed, and hung with shade;
Yet was it frost within,
And surly wind
Blasted my infant buds, and sin,
Like clouds, eclipsed my mind.
2 Stormed thus, I straight perceived my spring
Mere stage and show,
My walk a monstrous, mountained thing,
Rough-cast with rocks and snow;
And as a pilgrim's eye,
Far from relief,
Measures the melancholy sky,
Then drops, and rains for grief,
3 So sighed I upwards still; at last,
'Twixt steps and falls,
I reached the pinnacle, where placed
I found a pair of scales;
I took them up, and laid
In the one late pains,
The other smoke and pleasures weighed,
But proved the heavier grains.
4 With that some cried, Away; straight I
Obeyed, and led
Full east, a fair, fresh field could spy—
Some called it Jacob's Bed—
A virgin soil, which no
Rude feet e'er trod,
Where, since he stept there, only go
Prophets and friends of God.
5 Here I reposed, but scarce well set,
A grove descried
Of stately height, whose branches met
And mixed on every side;
I entered, and, once in,
(Amazed to see 't;)
Found all was changed, and a new spring
Did all my senses greet.
6 The unthrift sun shot vital gold
A thousand pieces,
And heaven its azure did unfold,
Chequered with snowy fleeces.
The air was all in spice,
And every bush
A garland wore; thus fed my eyes,
But all the ear lay hush.
7 Only a little fountain lent
Some use for ears,
And on the dumb shades language spent,
The music of her tears;
I drew her near, and found
The cistern full
Of divers stones, some bright and round,
Others ill-shaped and dull.
8 The first, (pray mark,) as quick as light
Danced through the flood;
But the last, more heavy than the night,
Nailed to the centre stood;
I wondered much, but tired
At last with thought,
My restless eye, that still desired,
As strange an object brought.