Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/201

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

187

All strait and smooth, and like a great green wall! My poor old Lady many a time would come And tell me where to shear, for she had played In childhood under them, and 'twas her pride To keep them in their beauty. Plague I say, On their new-fangled whimsies! we shall have A modern shrubbery here stuck full of firs And your pert poplar trees;—I could as soon Have plough'd my father's grave as cut them down!STRANGER.But 'twill be lighter and more chearful now,A fine smooth turf, and with a gravel road Round for the carriage,—now it suits my taste.I like a shrubbery too, it looks so fresh,And then there's some variety about it. In spring the lilac and the gueldres rose,And the laburnum with its golden flowers Waving in the wind. And when the autumn comes The bright red berries of the mountain-ash, With firs enough in winter to look green,
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.