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Welkins2139 Posted 20 years ago
solitude.
Solitude |
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 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 mixed; 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. What did you think about the poem? He is a happy man with few acres of land. He eats well and dresses well. He passes time easily. When he dies, he wants no stone at his tomb. |
Top answer
If you wish to post others' poetry, Welkin, you must always give proper credit. It is dishonest-- and often illegal-- not to do so. This poem, The Quiet Life , is by Alexander Pope.
- If you wish to post others' poetry, Welkin, you must always give proper credit.
- It is dishonest-- and often illegal-- not to do so.
- This poem, The Quiet Life , is by Alexander Pope.
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If you wish to post others' poetry, Welkin, you must always give proper credit. It is dishonest-- and often illegal-- not to do so. This poem, The Quiet Life, is by Alexander Pope.
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