Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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| The Golden Age. First Age. |
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
The Golden Age. First Age.
The
Golden Age was first: when Man yet new,
No Rule but uncorrupted Reason knew:
And, with a native Bent, did Good pursue.
Unforc'd by Punishment, un-aw'd by Fear,
His Words were simple, and his Soul sincere.
Needless was written Law, where none oppress'd;
The Law of Man was written in his Breast.
No suppliant Crowds before the Judge appear'd,
No Court erected yet, nor Cause was heard:
But all was safe, for Conscience was their Guard.
The Mountain Pine, unfell'd, securely stood,
Nor chang'd for distant Seas her native Wood.
Then Mortals, unambitious, knew no more
Than the short Prospect of their native Shore.
No Walls were yet: nor Fence, nor Moat, nor Mound:
Nor Drum was heard, nor Trumpet's warlike Sound:
Nor Sword, nor Helm was made: in calm Content,
And downy Peace, their Lives these happy People spen.
No Rule but uncorrupted Reason knew:
And, with a native Bent, did Good pursue.
Unforc'd by Punishment, un-aw'd by Fear,
His Words were simple, and his Soul sincere.
Needless was written Law, where none oppress'd;
The Law of Man was written in his Breast.
No suppliant Crowds before the Judge appear'd,
No Court erected yet, nor Cause was heard:
But all was safe, for Conscience was their Guard.
The Mountain Pine, unfell'd, securely stood,
Nor chang'd for distant Seas her native Wood.
Then Mortals, unambitious, knew no more
Than the short Prospect of their native Shore.
No Walls were yet: nor Fence, nor Moat, nor Mound:
Nor Drum was heard, nor Trumpet's warlike Sound:
Nor Sword, nor Helm was made: in calm Content,
And downy Peace, their Lives these happy People spen.
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The teeming Earth yet guiltless of the Plow,
And unprovok'd, did fruitful Stores allow:
Content with Food, which Nature freely bred,
On Wildings, and on Strawberries they fed:
Cornels and Bramble Berries gave the rest,
And fallen Acorns furnish'd out a Feast.
On Flow'rs unsown soft Zephyr spread his Wing,
And Time itself was one eternal Spring.
In following Years, the bearded Corn ensu'd,
From Earth untill'd, nor was that Earth renew'd.
Streams, then, of Milk, and Streams of Nectar flow'd,
And yellow Honey sweating Oaks bestow'd.—
Then Men were hard, as hard as parent Stones,
And unprovok'd, did fruitful Stores allow:
Content with Food, which Nature freely bred,
On Wildings, and on Strawberries they fed:
Cornels and Bramble Berries gave the rest,
And fallen Acorns furnish'd out a Feast.
On Flow'rs unsown soft Zephyr spread his Wing,
And Time itself was one eternal Spring.
In following Years, the bearded Corn ensu'd,
From Earth untill'd, nor was that Earth renew'd.
Streams, then, of Milk, and Streams of Nectar flow'd,
And yellow Honey sweating Oaks bestow'd.—
And built on bigger and on firmer Bones:
The Nerves that join'd their Limbs were tough and strong,
Their Life was healthy, and their Age was long.
No Colds, nor Heats, nor dire Diseases bred
By dainty Dishes, multiply'd the Dead:
But rolling Years long found them in their Prime,
And, like the Brutes, in Search of Food they spent their Time.
No brawny Plowman then had learn'd to tare
The Earth's firm Surface with the crooked Share:
None prun'd old Branches from the Trees that grew,
Or dug the fruitful Ground for planting new:
But all were well contented with the Store
Sun, Rain, and Earth bestow'd, and wish'd no more.
In Woods they liv'd, on Acorns chiefly fed,
And such wild Berries as in Winter, red,
Become mature: the youthful World then gave
Of these abundance more than now we have;
And various Fruits beside did then produce,
Amply sufficient for poor Mortals' Use.—
—Then none resign'd
Their Lives to Seas, or Wishes to the Wind:
Confin'd their Search: they knew themselves alone,
And thought That only worthy to be known.—
That ancient Time, we call the Golden-Age,
Was happy: when Earth's Fruits, and wholsom Herbs,
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His Lips polluted.—Safely thro' the Air
The Bird then wing'd his Way: then o'er the Plains
The Hare securely wander'd, void of Fear:
Nor did his Confidence the Fish betray,
Or guileful Hooks ensnare.—All, then, sincere,
And unsuspicious, perfect Peace enjoy'd.—
Those Woods were first the Seat of Sylvan Pow'rs,
Of Nymphs, and Fawns, and savage Men, who took
Their Birth from Trunks of Trees, and stubborn Oak:
Nor Laws they knew, nor Manners, nor the Care
Of lab'ring Oxen, nor the shining Share:
Nor Arts of Gain, nor what they gain'd to spare.
Their Exercise the Chace: the running Flood
Supply'd their Thirst: The Trees supply'd their Food.
Then Saturn came, who fled the Pow'r of Jove,
Robb'd of his Realms, and banish'd from above.
The Men dispersed on Hills, to Towns he brought:
And Laws ordain'd, and civil Customs taught.
With his mild Empire Peace and Plenty came,
And hence the Golden Times deriv'd their Name.—
Thus Saturn flourished in an Age of Gold,
On Earth: nor Mortals yet had heard th' Alarms
Of Trumpets, nor the sputt'ring of the Steel
On Anvils form'd, and hammer'd into Swords.—
How happy liv'd Mankind in Saturn's Days!
E'er tiresom Journeys mark'd out tedious Ways:
No Ship then ventur'd on the azure Main,
Or spread its Sails the speeding Winds to gain:
To Coasts unknown then none a Voyage made,
Or stor'd their Vessels with a foreign Trade.
No sturdy Bull as yet had wore the Yoke,
No Horse with Bit and Bridle yet was broke.
No Doors their Houses had: and in their Grounds
No Stone was fix'd, to mark each Tenant's Bounds.
Oaks Honey gave, and of their own Accord
The Ewes with swelling Dugs their Milk afford.
Armies, nor Rage, nor Wars, as yet were found,
Nor yet the cruel Smith had Weapons forg'd to wound.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |