While the door from its hinges had gone to supply
A trough for the lady who lived in the sty.
Then as to the garden, 'twas quite a disgrace,
You never beheld such a wild-looking place.
The grass than the flowers had grown somewhat higher,
Entangled with bushes of bramble and brier.
The trees and the bushes were so much neglected
That fruit was ne'er looked for, as 'twas not expected.
The hedges, so fine once, had lost all their beauty,
And look'd like policemen forgetting their duty;