English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
Alexander Pope
278. Solitude
H
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air
In his own ground.
Whose flocks supply him with attire;
Whose trees in summer yield him shade,
In winter fire.
Hours, days, and years, slide soft away
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day.
Together mix’d, sweet recreation,
And innocence, which most does please
With meditation.
Thus unlamented let me die;
Steal from the world, and not a stone
Tell where I lie.