Another of the same Author

Fields were overspread with flowers,
Fairest choice of Flora's treasure;
Shepherds there had shady bowers,
Where they oft reposed with pleasure:
Meadows flourish'd fresh and gay,
Where the wanton herds did play.

Springs more clear than crystal streams
Seated were the groves among.
Thus nor Titan's scorching beams.
Nor earth's drouth could shepherds wrong:
Fair Pomona's fruitful pride
Did the budding branches hide.

Flocks of sheep fed on the plains,
Harmless sheep that roam'd at large;
Here and there sat pensive swains,
Waiting on their wandering charge:
Pensive while their lasses smiled.
Lasses which had them beguiled.

Hills with trees were richly dight.
Valleys stored with Vesta's wealth,;
Both did harbour sweet delight,
Nought was there to hinder health:
Thus did heaven grace the soil,
Not deform'd with workmen's toil.

Purest plot of earthly mould,
Might that land be justly named;
Art by nature was controll'd.
Art, which no such pleasures framed.
Fairer place was never seen;
Fittest place for beauty's queen.