They laughed and chatted and explored the house, With its dark oaken gallery, and flight Of massy polished stairs, and saw a mouse, P'raps three or four appalled their wond'ring sight; But each new comfort gave them fresh delight, And as they peeped through each dark-curtained door All seemed so perfectly compact and bright, Indeed they seemed to like it more and more, For they had never entered such a house before.
The furniture was heavy in its kind, And all the drap'ry was of sombre shade, Evidently in days long past designed, And diamond casements, I before have said, Looked on a lawn, in richest green arrayed, And lands beyond unto the distance blue Where king-cups blossom'd in the silent glade, And all the flow'rets of the forest grew, And pearly streams were tinged with their reflected hue.
Upstairs the rooms were hung with glacé chintz (So like the good old farm-house of past days), Which gave them a variety of tints, And pleased at once the weary stranger's gaze; The doors themselves were covered with green baize Hidden with crimson curtains, and each bed Was draped in style that claimed the greatest praise In charming sky-blue intermixed with red, With pockets of unique design above the head.
They fed the pigs with biscuits, and the fowls Were soon quite reconciled to their new friends, And the great shepherd-dog's uncivil growls Had quite subsided and, instead, he sends His kind regards for various means and ends; And I expect, if th' real truth were known, He had an appetite, which always tends To make uncouth pups civil for a bone; To use civility in this way some are prone.
Sometimes, like others do, they drove about With a _recherché_ little chaise and pair, And they enjoyed a pic-nic oft no doubt In pretty spots now here and sometimes there; And we all know the fingers of the fair Arrange these matters sweetly, for they suit Matters requiring delicacy and care, The choice of flowers, the arrangement of the fruit, And digging ferns up without injuring the root.
They loved to play at croquet on the lawn, Adventurously rove a league away, Or bend their steps upon the summer morn (A mile it was, I fancy), to the bay, Taking a biscuit-luncheon on the way. To wander o'er the shining, yellow sands, Quiet and lone, and watch the snowy spray; And take the curious seaweeds in their hands, Then homeward turn obedient to Papa's commands.