A RCADIA was of old (said he) a State
Subject to none but their own Laws and Fate:
Superior there was none, but what old age
And hoary hairs had rais'd; the wise and sage,
Whose gravity, when they were rich in years,
Begat a civil reverence more than fears
In the well-manner'd people; at that day
All was in common, every man bare sway
O'er his own Family; the jars that rose
Were soon appeas'd by such grave men as those:
This mine and thine, that we so cavil for,
Was then not heard of; he that was most poor
Was rich in his content, and liv'd as free
As they whose flocks were greatest, nor did he
Envy his great abundance, nor the other
Disdain the low condition of his Brother,
But lent him from his store to mend his state;
And with his love he quits him, thanks his fate,
And taught by his example, seeks out such
As wants his help, that he may do as much.
Their Laws, e'en from their childhood, rich and poor
Had written in their hearts by conning o'er
The Legacies of good old men, whose memories
Out-live their Monuments: the grave advice
They left behind in writing; this was that
That made Arcadia then so blest a State,
Their wholesome Laws had linkt them so in one,
They liv'd in peace and sweet communion.
Peace brought forth plenty, plenty bred content,
And that crown'd all their pains with merriment.
They had no foe, secure they liv'd in Tents,
All was their own they had, they paid no rents;
Their Sheep found cloathing, Earth provided food,
And Labour drest them as their wills thought good.
On unbought Delicates their Hunger fed,
And for their Drink the swelling Clusters bled:
The Vallies rang with their delicious strains,
And pleasure revell'd on those happy Plains,
Content and Labor gave them length of days,
And Peace serv'd in delight a thousand ways.
The golden Age before Deucalion 's Flood
Was not more happy, nor the folk more good.
But Time that eats the Children he begets,
And is less satisfied the more he eats,
Led on by Fate that terminates all things,
Ruin'd our State, by sending of us Kings:
Ambition (Sins first-born) the bane of State,
Stole into men, puffing them up with hate
And emulous desires; Love waxes cold,
And into Iron freeze the age of Gold.
The Laws contempt made cruelty step in,
And stead of curbing animated Sin,
The Rich man tramples on the Poor man's back,
Raising his Fortunes by his Brothers wrack.
The wronged Poor necessity 'gan teach,
To live by Rapine, stealing from the Rich.
The Temples, which Devotion had erected
In honor of the Gods, were now neglected.
No Altar-smoaks with sacrificed Beasts,
No Incense offer'd, no Love-strength'ning Feasts.
Men's greedy Avarice made Gods of Clay,
Their Gold and Silver: Field to Field they lay,
And House to House; no matter how 'twas got,
The hand of Justice they regarded not.
Like a distemper'd Body Fever-shaken,
When with combustion every Limb is taken:
The Head wants ease, the heavy Eyes want sleep,
The beating Pulse no just proportion keep;
The Tongue talks idly, reason cannot rule it,
And the Heart fires the Air drawn in to cool it.
The Palate relisheth no meat, the Ears
But ill affected with the sweets it hears.
The Hands deny their aid to help him up,
And fall, as to his lips they lift the cup.
The Legs and Feet disjoynted, and useless,
Shrinking beneath the burden of the Flesh.
Subject to none but their own Laws and Fate:
Superior there was none, but what old age
And hoary hairs had rais'd; the wise and sage,
Whose gravity, when they were rich in years,
Begat a civil reverence more than fears
In the well-manner'd people; at that day
All was in common, every man bare sway
O'er his own Family; the jars that rose
Were soon appeas'd by such grave men as those:
This mine and thine, that we so cavil for,
Was then not heard of; he that was most poor
Was rich in his content, and liv'd as free
As they whose flocks were greatest, nor did he
Envy his great abundance, nor the other
Disdain the low condition of his Brother,
But lent him from his store to mend his state;
And with his love he quits him, thanks his fate,
And taught by his example, seeks out such
As wants his help, that he may do as much.
Their Laws, e'en from their childhood, rich and poor
Had written in their hearts by conning o'er
The Legacies of good old men, whose memories
Out-live their Monuments: the grave advice
They left behind in writing; this was that
That made Arcadia then so blest a State,
Their wholesome Laws had linkt them so in one,
They liv'd in peace and sweet communion.
Peace brought forth plenty, plenty bred content,
And that crown'd all their pains with merriment.
They had no foe, secure they liv'd in Tents,
All was their own they had, they paid no rents;
Their Sheep found cloathing, Earth provided food,
And Labour drest them as their wills thought good.
On unbought Delicates their Hunger fed,
And for their Drink the swelling Clusters bled:
The Vallies rang with their delicious strains,
And pleasure revell'd on those happy Plains,
Content and Labor gave them length of days,
And Peace serv'd in delight a thousand ways.
The golden Age before Deucalion 's Flood
Was not more happy, nor the folk more good.
But Time that eats the Children he begets,
And is less satisfied the more he eats,
Led on by Fate that terminates all things,
Ruin'd our State, by sending of us Kings:
Ambition (Sins first-born) the bane of State,
Stole into men, puffing them up with hate
And emulous desires; Love waxes cold,
And into Iron freeze the age of Gold.
The Laws contempt made cruelty step in,
And stead of curbing animated Sin,
The Rich man tramples on the Poor man's back,
Raising his Fortunes by his Brothers wrack.
The wronged Poor necessity 'gan teach,
To live by Rapine, stealing from the Rich.
The Temples, which Devotion had erected
In honor of the Gods, were now neglected.
No Altar-smoaks with sacrificed Beasts,
No Incense offer'd, no Love-strength'ning Feasts.
Men's greedy Avarice made Gods of Clay,
Their Gold and Silver: Field to Field they lay,
And House to House; no matter how 'twas got,
The hand of Justice they regarded not.
Like a distemper'd Body Fever-shaken,
When with combustion every Limb is taken:
The Head wants ease, the heavy Eyes want sleep,
The beating Pulse no just proportion keep;
The Tongue talks idly, reason cannot rule it,
And the Heart fires the Air drawn in to cool it.
The Palate relisheth no meat, the Ears
But ill affected with the sweets it hears.
The Hands deny their aid to help him up,
And fall, as to his lips they lift the cup.
The Legs and Feet disjoynted, and useless,
Shrinking beneath the burden of the Flesh.