Happy the man, whose wish and care
A few paternal acres bound,
Content to breathe his native air,
In his own ground.
Whose heards 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 lye.
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Ode on Solitude
From guest Bruce Avent (contact)
Probably the most inspirational, applicable and finest poetry that I have ever read. I cannot help but keep going back to it. It enscapsulates, in every sense, my life and how I want it to be. -
Superbly written piece and encapsulates so much of how I feel personally that I was absolutely thrilled when I read this poem in Mohamed Khadra's "Making the Cut". Incidentally, if one has not read this book, make sure you visit your library soon. It is about the life of a surgeon and is simply not down-puttable!
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Back in the 17th century, there was hardly a fixed convention of spelling. You would find amny major poems from that era where words are spelled in a weird way. eg. wyf= WIFE, lyf= LIFE etc.
I think this poem is superb! -
I'm thinking at the end, tho, I may be wrong, that 'Thus unlamented let me dye;' that 'dye' is 'die' but, I guess it could be that too.
Not much with this piece, I guess I like his more philosophical and longer pieces. Not much on his short pieces. I mean, it's good and all, but, eh.
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