Since shed or cottage I have none, <br />I sing the more, that thou hast one; <br />To whose glad threshold, and free door <br />I may a Poet come, though poor; <br />And eat with thee a savoury bit, <br />Paying but common thanks for it. <br />--Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see <br />An over-leaven look in thee, <br />To sour the bread, and turn the beer <br />To an exalted vinegar; <br />Or should'st thou prize me as a dish <br />Of thrice-boil'd worts, or third-day's fish, <br />I'd rather hungry go and come <br />Than to thy house be burdensome; <br />Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be <br />One that should drop his beads for thee.<br /><br />Robert Herrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-his-peculiar-friend-mr-john-wicks/
