Mossy gray stands the House, four-square to the wind,
Embosomed in the hills. The garden old
Of yew and box and fishpond speaks her mind,
Sweet-ordered, quaint, recluse, fold within fold
Of quietness; but true and choice and kind--
A sober casket for a heart of gold.
The Old House
Maurice Henry Hewlett
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Poem topics: heart, house, wind, sweet, mind, garden, choice, true, gold, square, casket, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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