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;
the unlamented let me die;
steal from the world, and not a stone
tell where i lie.
a very well penned poem...nice stanza style...the message profound...especially the last notion of 'not a stone tell where i lie.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The Quiet life