SINCE shed or cottage I have none, I sing the more that thou hast one, To whose glad threshold and free door I may a poet come, though poor, And eat with thee a savoury bit, Paying but common thanks for it. Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see An over-leaven look in thee. To sour the bread, and turn the beer To an exalted vinegar; Or shouldst thou prize me as a dish Of thrice boifed worts, or third day's fish, I'd rather hungry go and come Than to thy house be burdensome: Yet in my depth of grief I'd be One that should drop his beads for thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CELIA'S HOMECOMING by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON FEMININE TALK by MAXWELL BODENHEIM THERE'S WISDOM IN WOMEN by RUPERT BROOKE A POET by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR ANTICLIMAX by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON UPON YE SIGHT OF MY ABORTIVE BIRTH YE 31TH: OF DECEMBER 1657 by MARY CAREY |