• A Naked house, a naked moor,
    A shivering pool before the door,
    A garden bare of flowers and fruit,
    And poplars at the garden foot;
    Such is the place that I live in,
    Bleak without and bare within.

    Yet shall your ragged moors receive
    The incomparable pomp of eve,
    And the cold glories of the dawn
    Behind your shivering trees...