by hoary Age, and old in Fame,
Unknown its Founder's Family and Name.
The Fabric stands a venerable Seat;
Just in the Centre of a fair Estate:
That wide its hospitable Door extends,
Capacious to receive a thousand Friends.
The Owner's Soul, like Goodness, unconfin'd,
Diffuses wide her Favours on her Kind.
Her gen'rous Breast scarce other Pleasure knows,
Than what reflects from those that she bestows.
She knows with strictest Prudence how to spend;
Still frugal to herself, and noble to her Friend.
Fair verdant Avenues the House adorn;
And double Courts the bold Intruder warn.
For great Beneficence is oft oppress'd;
And those that can't deny, can seldom rest.
Wide arched Portals grace the solemn Hall;
Where wait the Poor, as their Distresses call:
Nor call in vain; but of Assistance sure;
If hungry, fed; if sick, they find a Cure.
But view the Parlour; here Description's faint:
Its Beauties languish in my lifeless Paint.
Its wide Dimension, well-proportion'd Height,
With pleasing Awe command and charm the Sight.
Here , in  Annals fam'd,
Frowns awful, yet intrepid and untam'd.
This Piece a Son of  could scarce survive;
The Canvas speaks, 'tis  alive.
From the broad Windows see the Scenes extend;
Till on the distant Hills the Skies descend.
Within, around exotic Flow'rets bloom;
Fair  Spices shed a rich Perfume.
Nor less, ye lovely Natives of our Isle,
Your Scenes delight me, or your Blossoms smile.
The fragrant , and blushing ,
The various , and  shows
Yet liuelier Beauty in their native Soil;
Shed sweeter Fragrance, and require less Toil.