Shows nothing but a waste, with one broad track
Stamp’d to the humble door-post from the lane;
The snow-capp’d wood-pile stretching near the walls;
And the half severed log with axe that leans
Within the gaping notch.
Long rows of desk and bench; the former stain’d
And streak’d with blots and trickles of dried ink,
Lumbered with maps and slates and well-thumb’d books,
And carved with rude initials; while the knife