The Poetry Corner

His Grange, Or Private Wealth

By Robert Herrick

Though clock, To tell how night draws hence, I've none, A cock I have to sing how day draws on: I have A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent, To save That little, Fates me gave or lent. A hen I keep, which, creeking day by day, Tells when She goes her long white egg to lay: A goose I have, which, with a jealous ear, Lets loose Her tongue, to tell what danger's near. A lamb I keep, tame, with my morsels fed, Whose dam An orphan left him, lately dead: A cat I keep, that plays about my house, Grown fat With eating many a miching mouse: To these A Trasy I do keep, whereby I please The more my rural privacy: Which are But toys, to give my heart some ease: Where care None is, slight things do lightly please.