The foure ages of England, or, The iron age with other select poems / written by Mr. A. Cowley.

The Golden Age.

CHAP. I.

GOne are those golden Halcion daies, wherein Men uncompell'd, for love of good, fled sin: When men hug'd right & truth, whose souls being clear, Baffled the threats of punishment or fear. No Lawes, no penalties, but there did rest A Court of equity in each mans brest; No trembling pris'ner to the Bar did come, From his severer Judge t'xpect his doome; No need of judge or Executioners, To keep by Law that which by right was theirs. The Pyne not then his mother-mountaines leaves, To dance Lavalto's on th'unconstant waves. Walls cloath'd not Towns, nor did mens safety stand In moving Forts by Sea, on fixt by Land. They understood not Guns, nor Speares, nor Swords, Nor Cause, nor Plunder, and such Martiall words; No armed Souldier stood for their defence, Their chiefest Armor was their innocence. Mans quiet nature did not feel that fire, Which since inflames the world, too great desire. Kings did not load their heads with Crowns, nor try By force or fraud, t'invade the liberty Of their obedient Subjects; nor did they Strive with Annoynted Soveraigns for sway; But Prince and people mutually agree In an indissoluble Sympathie.

Religion flourish'd, and the Lawes increase, Both twin'd in one, the Gemini of peace. An universall concord tuned then Th'unjarring thoughts of many-minded men In an unblemisht harmony. Then right Spurn'd the proud thoughts of domineering might; And lawrell'd Equity in triumph sate, Upheld by vertue, which stood candidate, And curb'd the power and craft of vice, maintain'd By the instinct which in mens nature raign'd: Th'unspotted soul could not attainted be With Treason 'gainst the highest Majestie; Vice was a stranger to't, nor could it 'bide To club with Av'rice, or converse with Pride. Nor was it plun'gd i'th whirlpool of those crimes, That have inthral'd now these degenerate times. Th'imprison'd will then durst not whisper Treason, But cring'd to th' Dictates of its Rectresse, Reason. Friend was the soul of friend, and ev'ry man Fed, like a stream, the whole, its Ocean.

CHAP. II.

THe pregnant Earth untill'd did yeeld increase, And men injoy'd what they possess'd in peace. The Winter plunder'd not the leaves from trees, Nor skurf'd the ground with hoary Leprosies. No scorching Summer, with Canicular heat, Parboild their bodies in immoderate-sweat. What ever Autumne pluck'd, the Spring did bring, An endlesse harvest wed an endlesse Spring. The quarter'd Year mixt in a bunch did come, And clung it self t'an individuum.

Then flouds of Milk, then flouds of Nectar, flow'd, And on the fertile Earth all plenty grow'd. Th'enamell'd fields with Tapestry were crown'd, And floating Honey surfeited the ground: Of purest blessings men enjoy'd their fill, And had all good, 'cause they did nothing ill.