To thee, fair Freedom! I retire, <br />From flattery, cards, and dice, and din; <br />Nor art thou found in mansions higher <br />Than the low cot, or humble inn. <br /> <br />'Tis here with boundless power I reign, <br />And every health which I begin, <br />Converts dull port to bright champagne; <br />Such Freedom crowns it, at an inn. <br /> <br />I fly from pomp, I fly from plate, <br />I fly from Falsehood's specious grin; <br />Freedom I love, and form I hate, <br />And choose my lodgings, at an inn. <br /> <br />Here, waiter! take my sordid ore, <br />Which lackeys else might hope to win; <br />It buys what courts have not in store, <br />It buys me Freedom, at an inn. <br /> <br />Whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, <br />Where'er his stages may have been, <br />May sigh to think he still has found <br />The warmest welcome -- at an inn.<br /><br />William Shenstone<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/written-at-an-inn-at-henley/
