The poem is a celebration of nature’s abundance. The poem, if it has a narrative, is the story of a meandering stroll about the estate’s 11 acre preserve. Most of the poem takes place outdoors. However, this is no Romantic perception of Nature’s sublime wealth—that would come two centuries later. Nature here is an extension, a manifestation of the social order in which the wealthy live privileged and blessed lives. Miles from the heart of bustling London, the poet embraces a green world of plants, birds, and animals who, unlike the hard-edged denizens of the city, flourish and cooperate within a non-threatening, non-confrontational ecosystem that encourages awe and justifies admiration. The woods, waters, soil, air, and trees as well as a plethora of animals and birds identified by name all come within the purview of the poet. A creature of the court, a lifelong resident of London, Jonson here feels the liberating expanse of nature itself.

However, it is not nature with a lower case “n.” The description of the natural wealth of Penshurst is idealized—after all, the estate presumably has rainy days, the livestock are prone to disease, the trees suffer from blight, its animals attack each other, and, truth be told, the carp in the lake do not jump into nets eager to be served up for dinner—but the poet celebrates not nature as it is but Nature (capitalized) as it should be, nature under the benign auspices of Britain’s landed aristocracy.