Monday, January 4, 2021

Solitude

            A consultant once said to me "You'd do well as a prisoner of war." He's the only one that has said that to me. He went on to explain that my interior life would be helpful to me in imprisonment. COVID is little like imprisonment but there certainly are restrictions and confinements. My response to the threat of infection has been a self-imposed quarantine  giving me the opportunity of much solitude. This regimen is not particularly burdensome to me and seldom do I feel lonely. The gifts of telephone and internet connect me regularly with others. Almost everyday offers  "A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air,
                            In his own ground." in the words of Alexander Pope.  Yes, I resonate with Pope's soliloquy. 



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 unconcernedly 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 mixed; 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 lie.


Takk for alt,


Al



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