Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/204

186 More certain slumber soothes him, though his couch Be hard, if free from care he lay him down. With guilty soul he seeks do shameful deeds In nooks remote upon some hidden couch, Nor timorous hides in labyrinthine cell; He courts the open air and light of day, And lives before the conscious eye of heaven. Such was the life, I think, the ancients lived, Those primal men who mingled with the gods. They were not blinded by the love of gold; No sacred stone divided off the fields And lotted each his own in judgment there. Nor yet did vessels rashly plow the seas; But each his native waters knew alone. Then cities were not girt with massive walls, With frequent towers set; no soldier there To savage arms his hands applied, nor burst The close-barred gates with huge and heavy stones From ponderous engines hurled. As yet the earth Endured no master's rule, nor felt the sway Of laboring oxen yoked in common toil; But all the fields, self-fruitful, fed mankind, Who took and asked no more. The woods gave wealth, And shady grottoes natural homes supplied. Unholy greed first broke these peaceful bonds, And headlong wrath, and lust which sets aflame The hearts of men. Then came the cruel thirst For empire; and the weak became the prey Of strong, and might was counted right. At first Men fought with naked fists, but soon they turned Rough clubs and stones to use of arms. Not yet Were cornel spears with slender points of iron, And long, sharp-pointed swords, and crested helms. Such weapons wrath invented. Warlike Mars Produced new arts of strife, and forms of death In countless numbers made. Thence streams of gore Stained every land, and reddened every sea. Then crime, o'erleaping every bound, ran wild; Invaded every home. No hideous deed