From ancient oak-tree boles, they drank
Clear water kneeling on the bank
Of crystal streams, nor dreamed to dight
Piment therein for appetite;
Nor longed for wine grown old in tun,
With weary treading hardly won.
The fruitful earth no need to ear
Had they, it foisoned ’neath God’s care.8800
Thus amply fed, they had no wish
For salmons, pikes, or aught of fish.
They sheepskins wore against the harm
Of winter, or thence wove them warm
And simple vesture, which no dye
Of grain or herb e’er came anigh.
Green broom or rushes roofed their cots,
Or sheltered they in hillside grots
Fenced in with boughs, or hollow oaks
Gave shelter ’gainst rude winter’s strokes.8810
XLVII
This telleth how in days gone by
Earth’s children had no treasury
Or store of goods, but everything
Was common, free of prince or king.
Simplicity of life
And when a-nights they sought their rest,
No beds of down their bodies pressed.
But scattered they fresh fragrant leaves,
Or moss in heaps, or fresh cut sheaves
Of grass or reeds, and heaven’s sweet air
Was ever soft and gentle there,8820
In one unvarying tide of spring,
While tuneful birds made morning ring
