Alexander Pope

(21 May 1688 – 30 May 1744 / London / England)

Solitude - Poem 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 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.


Comments about Solitude by Alexander Pope

  • Rookie Basma Hyder (3/21/2007 12:39:00 PM)

    I want explain the solitude (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
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Read poems about / on: innocence, winter, summer, together, happy, peace, sleep, fire, solitude, world, night, tree



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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