Alexander Pope - The Quiet Life 汉译

  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 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 lie.