On rusty hinges swung the door
That open'd to the gloomy wall;
The broken chairs looked dull and dark,
Undusted was the mantel-piece,
And deeply-speck'd with spots of grease
Within the chamber of the clerk.
He only said "I'm very weary
With living in this ditch;"
He said, "I am confounded dreary,
I would that I were rich."