William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
Written at an Inn at HenleyWilliam Shenstone (17141763)
T
From flattery, feasting, dice and din;
Nor art thou found in domes much higher
Than the lone cot or humble Inn.
And every health which I begin,
Converts dull port to bright champagne;
For Freedom crowns it, at an Inn.
I fly from falsehood’s specious grin;
Freedom I love, and form I hate,
And choose my lodgings at an Inn.
Which lacqueys else might hope to win;
It buys what Courts have not in store,
It buys me Freedom, at an Inn.
Through rain or shine, through thick or thin,
Secure to meet, at close of day,
With kind reception at an Inn.
Where’er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think how oft he found
The warmest welcome—at an Inn.