XXXVII.

'Sweet were your shades, O ye primeval groves, 'Whose boughs to man his food and shelter lent, 'Pure in his pleasures, happy in his loves, 'His eye still smiling, and his heart content. 'Then, hand in hand, Health, Sport, and Labour went. 'Nature supplied the wish she taught to crave. 'None prowled for prey, none watched to circumvent. 'To all an equal lot Heaven's bounty gave: 'No vassal feared his lord, no tyrant feared his slave.