Solitude An Ode by Alexander Pope

Solitude: An Ode

by Alexander Pope

 Alexander Pope from studio of Michael Dahl oil on canvas, circa 1727 (NPG 278) © National Portrait Gallery, London Creative Commons License

Alexander Pope, from the studio of Michael Dahl
oil on canvas, circa 1727 (NPG 278)
© National Portrait Gallery, London
Creative Commons License

 

 

I

How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths his native air,
In his own grounds.

II

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
Whose flocks supply him with attire,
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.

III

Blest! who can unconcern’dly find
Hours, days, and years slide swift away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day,

IV

Sound sleep by night; study and ease
Together mix’d; sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please,
With meditation.

V

Thus let me live, unheard, unknown;
Thus unlamented let me dye;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lye.

 

***

A friend of Jonathan Swift, Alexander Pope was a splendid poet and writer. To read more of his works, we recommend this site compiled by members of the English department at the University of Toronto:

http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poets/pope-alexander

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