Leads to a balustrade of urns,
Beyond which two stone satyrs glare
From vines and close-clipped yews and ferns.
A path, that winds and labyrinths,
'Twixt parallels of verdant box,
Around a lodge whose mossy plinths
Are based on emerald-colored rocks.
A lodge, or ancient pleasure-house,
Built in a grove beside a lake,
Around whose edge the dun deer browse,