And happy mortals unconcerned for more,
Confined their wishes to their native shore:
No walls were yet, nor fence, nor moat, nor mound,
Nor drum was heard, nor trumpets' angry sound;
Nor swords were forged, but void of care or crime,
The soft creation slept away their time;
The teeming earth, yet guiltless of the plough,
And unprovoked did fruitful stores allow;
Content with food, which nature freely bred,
On wildings and on strawberries they fed: