HIS week, for the first time in years, I am home alone. No beloved Rose. No beloved children. No beloved children’s friends sleeping on sofas and floors. ‘Happy the man,’ wrote Alexander Pope when he was only 12, ‘whose wish and care/A few paternal acres bound, /Content to breathe his native air,/In his own ground.’ Whatever. I am in more sympathy
Hermetically sealed
May 03, 2023
2 minutes
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