All of this is all I want today: pure, blissful, quiet and peaceful, solitude.
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 unconcernedly 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.
Agreed
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Magical. I love this guy. For me, he’s at his best in his Rape of the Lock. I love funny Pope.
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content to lament
without for now
cold
is not bold
warm
up
thaw my soul!
you re a good blogger! be happy!
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Utahan says be happy… so now I must go find some happy! 😘
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not meaning to be naive. i am John Scrivener. we have different crosses is all.
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