I remember a house where all were good

   To me, God knows, deserving no such thing:

   Comforting smell breathed at very entering,

Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off some sweet wood.

That cordial air made those kind people a hood

   All over, as a bevy of eggs the mothering wing

   Will, or mild nights the new morsels of Spring:

Why, it seemed of course; seemed of right it should.

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