Ode on Solitude, by Alexander Pope

Motivational Monday - 2nd Edition

Dear Men,
Beware the tempt of conquests in lands afar. When thirst is quenched, stocks will stoke and mar. Does a ruler grow in the heart of who takes? Know what little breaks is an easeful feat. So many are weak, enervate, or can hardly speak. Of course who tries will fond the eyes of Niké. But search for her head and you’ll find a pike. Not piqued as the pantheon shows. But with emptiness of heart and gelid prose: The fate of who contends to break and abscond, well, as you may know; is winter’s bond. It’s always such amends which jade desire. Lust as love, masquerade as lyre. So let not foreign riches tarry or coil. Know when to playfully bleed, accepting spoil. Sweat and tears are enough for peace. But blood to soil is a jester’s lease. If ever you find yourself in love’s renew; know that between here and there, is ‘me’ and ‘you’. You’re not so far that a well placed blade is lost. For forbearance’s cost is tried and true. Best that you become a ruler now, competent to the core and hard as yew. Transparence in soul is an earned attire. Take it to the grave. Be as Alexander loved, and love both more and higher. Speak the words as not a knave, ‘You are all I long for, all I worship, and adore’. In other words, seize the few. In other words, please be true. Not the monster who cannot turn from song. Not the absence of which would burn and long. You are not a man of mettle made to boil and break. You, are the last of your kind; so live. And live for your sake.

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