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Alexander Pope - To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday
Work rating: Medium

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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