It faces west, and round the back and sides br High beeches, bending, hang a veil of boughs, br And sweep against the roof. Wild honeysucks br Climb on the walls, and seem to sprout a wish br (If we may fancy wish of trees and plants) br To overtop the apple trees hard-by. br br Red roses, lilacs, variegated box br Are there in plenty, and such hardy flowers br As flourish best untrained. Adjoining these br Are herbs and esculents; and farther still br A field; then cottages with trees, and last br The distant hills and sky. br br Behind, the scene is wilder. Heath and furze br Are everything that seems to grow and thrive br Upon the uneven ground. A stunted thorn br Stands here and there, indeed; and from a pit br An oak uprises, Springing from a seed br Dropped by some bird a hundred years ago. br br In days bygone-- br Long gone--my father's mother, who is now br Blest with the blest, would take me out to walk. br At such a time I once inquired of her br How looked the spot when first she settled here. br The answer I remember. 'Fifty years br Have passed since then, my child, and change has marked br The face of all things. Yonder garden-plots br And orchards were uncultivated slopes br O'ergrown with bramble bushes, furze and thorn: br That road a narrow path shut in by ferns, br Which, almost trees, obscured the passers-by. br br Our house stood quite alone, and those tall firs br And beeches were not planted. Snakes and efts br Swarmed in the summer days, and nightly bats br Would fly about our bedrooms. Heathcroppers br Lived on the hills, and were our only friends; br So wild it was when we first settled here.