The Quiet Life
---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 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 unlamentated let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.
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This poem seems to put the exact words of my heart on the paper. I always wanted to live this kind of life. I dont want money, I dont want fame. I only want peace. And that's all.
2 comments:
so beautifullly written...I dun want money or fame either...cos peace of mind is something much more valuable and rare than anything else in the world...tell me where to find it.
Keshi.
preme e porle ei hoi ..kobita porte suru kore lokhe ..
aar lathi khabar por likte suru kore :)
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