Ode on Solitude

 

 

How happy he, who free from care

The rage of courts, and noise of towns;

Contented breathes his native air,

In his own grounds.

 

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 swift 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, unheard, unknown;

Thus unlamented let me die;

Steal from the world, and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

 

~~Alexander Pope~~

 

 

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life,

to mind your own business,

and to work with your hands, just as we told you.

1 Thessalonians 4:11

 

 

May God bless you with His peace.

Betty