Solitude: An Ode

[Cú ChulainnParticipant 3910]

Ode on 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 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 mix’d; 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.

~ Alexander Pope

[RemovedParticipant 4676]

Now that is what a man dreams for. This blessed solitude is what I have now; and for the first time for as long as I can remember, I feel content. Nothing lasts forever, but in this moment, life is good.

[Author]

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