The Borough

by George Crabbe

So well have sung of alley, lane, or street?

Can measured lines these various buildings show,

The Town-Hall Turning, or the Prospect Row?

Can I the seats of wealth and want explore,

And lengthen out my lays from door to door?

Then let thy Fancy aid me - I repair

From this tall mansion of our last year’s Mayor,

Till we the outskirts of the Borough reach,

And these half-buried buildings next the beach,

Where hang at open doors the net and cork,