For This he chose a Farm in  Vale,
Where his long Alleys peep'd upon the Main.
In this calm Seat he drew the healthful Gale,
Commix'd the Chief, the Patriot, and the Swain,
The happy Monarch of his Sylvan Train!
Here, sided by the Guardians of the Fold,
He walk'd his Rounds, and chear'd his blest Domain;
His Days, the Days of unstain'd Nature, roll'd,
Replete with Peace and Joy, like Patriarch's of old.