Long has the rural life been justly fam'd, And bards of old their pleasing pictures drew Of flowery meads, and groves, and gliding streams: 245 Hence, old Arcadia--wood-nymphs, satyrs, fauns; And hence Elysium, fancied heaven below!-- Fair agriculture, not unworthy kings, Once exercised the royal hand, or those Whose virtues raised them to the rank of gods. 250 See old Laertes in his shepherd weeds Far from his pompous throne and court august, Digging the grateful soil, where round him rise, Sons of the earth, the tall aspiring oaks, Or orchards, boasting of more fertile boughs, 255 Laden with apples red, sweet scented peach, Pear, cherry, apricot, or spungy plumb; While through the glebe the industrious oxen draw The earth-inverting plough.--Those Romans too, Fabricius and Camillus, loved a life 260 Of neat simplicity and rustic bliss, And from the noisy Forum hastening far, From busy camps, and sycophants, and crowns, 'Midst woods and fields spent the remains of life, Where full enjoyment still awaits the wise. 265 How grateful, to behold the harvests rise, And mighty crops adorn the extended plains!-- Fair plenty smiles throughout, while lowing herds Stalk o'er the shrubby hill or grassy mead, Or at some shallow river slake their thirst.-- 270 The inclosure, now, succeeds the shepherd's care, Yet milk-white flocks adorn the well stock'd farm, And court the attention of the industrious swain.-- Their fleece rewards him well, and when the winds Blow with a keener blast, and from the north 275 Pour mingled tempests through a sunless sky (Ice, sleet, and rattling hail) secure he sits Warm in his cottage, fearless of the storm, Enjoying now the toils of milder moons, Yet hoping for the spring.--Such are the joys, 280 And such the toils of those whom heaven hath bless'd With souls enamoured of a country life. _Acasto_ Such are the visions of the rustic reign-- But this alone, the fountain of support, Would scarce employ the varying mind of man; 285 Each seeks employ, and each a different way: Strip Commerce of her sail, and men once more Would be converted into savages;-- No nation e'er grew social and refined 'Till Commerce first had wing'd the adventurous prow, 290 Or sent the slow-paced caravan, afar, To waft their produce to some other clime, And bring the wished exchange--thus came, of old, Golconda's golden ore, and thus the wealth Of Ophir, to the wisest of mankind. 295 _Eugenio_