Which spread its foliage o’er the gable end,
And frown’d, or would, on whom who dared t’offend
That little sacred dwelling-place of Jane.
And, furtherward, he turn’d and saw the lane
Which led from thence and thither to the cot;
In front of which a small triangle spot,
(Where April “golden-cups,”[175] and daisies vie
To lure the trav’ler, or the tourist’s eye,)
Was fenc’d with stones, crust from Earth’s surface wrung;
The fence was broad, and taper’d to make strong: