Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence
Into this house pour down thy influence,
That through each room a golden pipe may run
Of living water by thy benison.
Fulfill the larders, and with strengthening bread
Be evermore these bins replenished.
Next, like a bishop consecrate my ground,
That lucky fairies here may dance their round;
And after that, lay down some silver pence
The master’s charge and care to recompense.
Charm then the chambers, make the beds for ease,
More than for peevish, pining sicknesses.
Fix the foundation fast, and let the roof
Grow old with time but yet keep weather-proof.
Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.