It was, and still my care is, To worship ye, the Lares, With crowns of greenest Parsley, And Garlick chives not scarcely: For favours here to warme me, And not by fire to harme me. For gladding so my hearth here, With inoffensive mirth here; That while the Wassaile Bowle here With North-down Ale doth troule here, No sillable doth fall here, To marre the mirth at all here. For which, o Chimney-keepers! (I dare not call ye Sweepers) So long as I am able To keep a countrey-table, Great be my fare, or small cheere, I'le eat and drink up all here. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: THE LAMENT OF EDWARD BLASTOCK; FOR RICHARD ROWLEY by EDITH SITWELL A DREAM, AFTER READING DANTE'S EPISODE OF PAULO & FRANCESCA by JOHN KEATS PRELUDE by JOHN MILLINGTON SYNGE DAY AND NIGHT SONGS by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM |