Here we securely live, and eat The cream of meat; And keep eternal fires, By which we sit, and do divine, As wine And rage inspires. If full, we charm; then call upon Anacreon To grace the frantic Thyrse: And having drunk, we raise a shout Throughout, To praise his verse. Then cause we Horace to be read, Which sung or said, A goblet, to the brim, Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd, Around We quaff to him. Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours In wine and flowers; And make the frolic year, The month, the week, the instant day To stay The longer here. --Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell Wherein I dwell; And my enchantments too; Which love and noble freedom is:-- And this Shall fetter you. Take horse, and come; or be so kind To send your mind, Though but in numbers few:-- And I shall think I have the heart Or part Of Clipsby Crew. 64. A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON Till I shall come again, let this suffice, I send my salt, my sacrifice To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far As to thy Genius and thy Lar; To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen, The fat-fed smoking temple, which in The wholesome savour of thy mighty chines, Invites to supper him who dines: Where laden spits, warp'd with large ribs of beef, Not represent, but give relief To the lank stranger and the sour swain, Where both may feed and come again; For no black-bearded Vigil from thy door Beats with a button'd-staff the poor; But from thy warm love-hatching gates, each may Take friendly morsels, and there stay To sun his thin-clad members, if he likes; For thou no porter keep'st who strikes. No comer to thy roof his guest-rite wants; Or, staying there, is scourged with taunts Of some rough groom, who, yirk'd with corns, says, 'Sir, 'You've dipp'd too long i' th' vinegar; 'And with our broth and bread and bits, Sir friend, 'You've fared well; pray make an end; 'Two days you've larded here; a third, ye know, 'Makes guests and fish smell strong; pray go 'You to some other chimney, and there take 'Essay of other giblets; make 'Merry at another's hearth; you're here 'Welcome as thunder to our beer; 'Manners knows distance, and a man unrude 'Would soon recoil, and not intrude 'His stomach to a second meal.'--No, no, Thy house, well fed and taught, can show No such crabb'd vizard: Thou hast learnt thy train With heart and hand to entertain; And by the arms-full, with a breast unhid, As the old race of mankind did, When either's heart, and either's hand did strive To be the nearer relative; Thou dost redeem those times: and what was lost