Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show, Of touch or marble; nor canst boast a row Of polished pillars, or a roof of gold; Thou hast no lantern, whereof tales are told, Or stair, or courts; but stand’st an ancient pile, And, these grudged at, art reverenced the while.
-- Speaker (Lines 1 – 6)

Importance: These are the opening lines of the poem, in which the speaker compares Penshurst to other well-adorned and impressive houses. He notes that, though Penshurst may lack some of the showy decor and structural splendor of other, more modern homes, it is an enduring staple of England that is more revered and respected.

The painted partridge lies in every field, And for thy mess is willing to be killed. And if the high-swollen Medway fail thy dish, Thou hast thy ponds, that pay thee tribute fish, Fat aged carps that run into thy net, And pikes, now weary their...
-- Speaker (Lines 29 – 38)