XXXVII.

"O who of man the story will unfold, Ere victory and empire wrought annoy, In that elysian age (misnam'd of gold), The age of love, and innocence, and joy, When all were great and free! man's sole employ To deck the bosom of his parent earth; Or toward his bower the murmuring stream decoy, To aid the floweret's long-expected birth, And lull the bed of peace, and crown the board of mirth.