Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die


Children running in the park     Painting by Andrew Macaria

Here’s a poem by Alexander Pope, from his “Essay on Man” ( though I’ve never heard the word “pelf” before and wonder if he made it up!)

‘Human Folly’ – the poem

Whate’er the passions, knowledge, fame, or pelf,

Not one will change is neighbour with himself.

The learn’d is happy nature to explore

, The fool is happy that he knows no more;

The rich is happy in the plenty given,

The poor contents him with the care of Heaven,

See the blind beggar dance, the cripple sing

The sot a hero, lunatic a king;

The starving chemist in his golden views

Supremely bless’d, the poet in his Muse.

See some strange comfort ev’ry state attend,

And Pride bestow’d on all, a common friend:

See some fit passion every age supply;

Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.

Behold the child, by Nature’s kindly law,

Pleas’d with a rattle, tickled with a straw:

Some livelier plaything gives his youth delight,

A little louder, but as empty quite:

Scarfs, garters, gold, amuse his riper state,

And beads and prayer-books are the toys of age:

Pleas’d with this bauble still, as that before,

Till tired he sleeps, and life’s poor play is o’er.


(Extract from ‘Essay on Man’, Epistle II)


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/folly/”>Folly</a&gt;


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