Caelica, Sonnet XLIII

THe Golden-Age was when the world was yong,
Nature so rich, as Earth did need no sowing,
Malice not knowne, the Serpents had not stung,
Wit was but sweet Affections ouerflowing.

Desire was free, and Beauties first-begotten;
Beauty then neither net, nor made by art,
Words out of thoughts brought forth, and not forgotten,
The Lawes were inward that did rule the heart.

The Brasen Age is now when Earth is worne,
Beauty growne sicke, Nature corrupt and nought,
Pleasure vntimely dead as soone as borne,
Both words and kindnesse strangers to our thoughts:

If now this changing World doe change her head,
Caelica, what haue her new Lords for to boast?
The old Lord knowes Desire is poorely fed,
And sorrowes not a wauering prouince lost,
Since in the guilt-Age Saturne rul'd alone,
And in this painted, Planets euery one.