To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster

A poem by Alexander Pope (1688-1744)

Oh be thou blest with all that Heav’n can send,

Long Health, long Youth, long Pleasure, and a Friend:

Not with those Toys the female world admire,

Riches that vex, and Vanities that tire.

With added years if Life bring nothing new,

But, like a Sieve, let ev’ry blessing thro’,

Some joy still lost, as each vain year runs o’er,

And all we gain, some sad Reflection more;

Is that a Birth-Day? ’tis alas! too clear,

‘Tis but the funeral of the former year.

Let Joy or Ease, let Affluence or Content,

And the gay Conscience of a life well spent,

Calm ev’ry thought, inspirit ev’ry grace.

Glow in thy heart, and smile upon thy face.

Let day improve on day, and year on year,

Without a Pain, a Trouble, or a Fear;

Till Death unfelt that tender frame destroy,

In some soft Dream, or Extasy of joy,

Peaceful sleep out the Sabbath of the Tomb,

And wake to Raptures in a Life to come.

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