Ode on Solitude

by Alexander Pope


Happy the man, whose wish and care
   A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
                                   In his own ground.
Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
   Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
                                   In winter fire.
Blest, who can unconcern’dly find
    Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
                                     Quiet by day.
Sound sleep by night; study and ease,
    Together mixt; sweet recreation:
And innocence, which most does please
                                     With meditation.
Thus let me live, unseen, unknown,
    Thus unlamented let me die,
Steal from the world, and not a stone
                                    Tell where I lie.
ALexander Pope | Classic Poems

A Little Learning ] Know Thyself ] Elegy To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady ] The Rape of the Lock Canto 1 ] The Dunciad Book the First ] [ Ode on Solitude ]






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