Which carry perhaps to the cottage door,
The cottage that doesn't belong to me.
But it's miles from town
And it's tumble-down,
And the woodwork's done and the slates are brown;
No one could really live in the cottage
That doesn't belong to me.
Fair be the towns by the river-side,
Maidenhead, Richmond, Henley, Kew,
Crammed with cottages far and wide,