Then no rough sound of Wars Alarms, Had taught the World the needless use of Arms: Monarchs were uncreated then, Those Arbitrary Rulers over men: Kings that made Laws, first broke ‘em, and the Gods By teaching us Religion first, first set the World at Odds: Till then Ambition was not known, That Poyson to Content, Bane to Repose; Each Swain was Lord o’er his own will alone, His Innocence Religion was, and Laws. Nor needed any troublesome defence Against his Neighbours Insolence. Flocks, Herds, and every necessary good Which bounteous Nature had design’d for Food, Whose kind increase o’er-spread the Meads and Plaines, Was then a common Sacrifice to all th’agreeing Swaines. V. Right and Property were words since made, When Power taught Mankind to invade: When Pride and Avarice became a Trade; Carri’d on by discord, noise and wars, For which they barter’d wounds and scarrs; And to Inhaunce the Merchandize, miscall’d it, Fame, And Rapes, Invasions, Tyrannies, Was gaining of a Glorious Name: Stiling their salvage slaughters, Victories; Honour, the Error and the Cheat Of the Ill-natur’d Bus’ey Great, Nonsense, invented by the Proud, Fond Idol of the slavish Crowd, Thou wert not known in those blest days Thy Poyson was not mixt with our unbounded Joyes; Then it was glory to pursue delight, And that was lawful all, that Pleasure did invite, Then ‘twas the Amorous world injoy’d its Reign; And Tyrant Honour strove t’ usurp in Vain. VI. The flowry Meads, the Rivers and the Groves, Were fill’d with little Gay-wing’d Loves: That ever smil’d and danc’d and Play’d, And now the woods, and now the streames invade, And where they came all things were gay and glad: When in the Myrtle Groves the Lovers sat Opprest with a too fervent heat; A Thousands Cupids fann’d their wings aloft, And through the Boughs the yielded Ayre would waft: Whose parting Leaves discovered all below, And every God his own soft power admir’d, And smil’d and fann’d, and sometimes bent his Bow; Where e’er he saw a Shepherd uninspir’d. The Nymphs were free, no nice, no coy disdain; Deny’d their Joyes, or gave the Lover pain; The yielding Maid but kind Resistance makes; Trembling and blushing are not marks of shame, But the Effect of kindling Flame: Which from the sighing burning Swain she takes, While she with tears all soft, and down-cast-eyes, Permits the Charming Conqueror to win the prize. VII.