The quaint stone carvings, round the massive porch,
Along the gables, cornices and sills,
Have lost their sharpness, softly moulded down,
But not defaced, and time-tints cover all
With pleasing richness. O’er the once bright brick
Grey hues are dappled, and give harmony
That blends the building with the ancient oaks,
Planes, beeches, chesnuts, whose outstretching arms
Give shelter and protection. Entering in
The lofty vestibule, the eye perceives