To Saxham

Though frost and snow lock'd from mine eyes

That beauty which without door lies,

Thy gardens, orchards, walks, that so

I might not all thy pleasures know,

Yet, thou within thy gate

Art of thyself so delicate,

So full of native sweets, that bless

Thy roof with inward happiness,

As neither from nor to thy store

Winter takes aught, or spring adds more.

The cold and frozen air had starv'd    

Much poor, if not by thee preserv'd,

Whose prayers have made thy table blest

With plenty, far above the rest.

The season hardly did afford

Coarse cates unto thy neighbors' board,    

Yet thou hadst dainties, as the sky

Had only been thy volary;      

Or else the birds, fearing the snow

Might to another Deluge grow,

The pheasant, partridge, and the lark

Flew to thy house, as to the Ark.

The willing ox of himself came

Home to the slaughter, with the lamb,

And every beast did thither bring

Himself, to be an offering.

The scaly herd more pleasure took,

Bath'd in thy dish, than in the brook;

Water, earth, air, did all conspire

To pay their tributes to thy fire,

Whose cherishing flames themselves divide

Through every room, where they deride

The night, and cold aboard; whilst they,

Like suns within, keep endless day.

Those cheerful beams send forth their light

To all that wander in the night,

And seem to beckon from aloof      

The weary pilgrim to thy roof,

Where if, refresh'd, he will away,

He's faily welcome; or if stay,

Far more; which he shall hearty find

Both from the master and the hind.      

The stranger's welcome each man there

Stamp'd on his cheerful brow doth wear,

Nor doth this welcome or his cheer

Grow less 'cause he stays longer here;

There's none observes, much less repines,    

How often this man sups or dines.

Thou hast no porter at the door

T'examine or keep back the poor;

Nor locks nor bolts: thy gates have been

Made only to let strangers in;

Untaught to shut, they do not fear

To stand wide open all the year,

Careless who enters, for they know

Thou never didst deserve a foe;

And as for thieves, thy bounty's such,

They cannot steal, thou giv'st so much.