I. <br />How happy he, who free from care <br />The rage of courts, and noise of towns; <br />Contented breaths his native air, <br />In his own grounds. <br /> <br />II. <br />Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread, <br />Whose flocks supply him with attire, <br />Whose trees in summer yield him shade, <br />In winter fire. <br /> <br />III. <br />Blest! who can unconcern'dly find <br />Hours, days, and years slide swift away, <br />In health of body, peace of mind, <br />Quiet by day, <br /> <br />IV. <br />Sound sleep by night; study and ease <br />Together mix'd; sweet recreation, <br />And innocence, which most does please, <br />With meditation. <br /> <br />V. <br />Thus let me live, unheard, unknown; <br />Thus unlamented let me dye; <br />Steal from the world, and not a stone <br />Tell where I lye.<br /><br />Alexander Pope<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/solitude-an-ode/
