THE MANDRAKE. 101 
And from every crevice and broken ledge 
The harebell blue and the wall-flower sprung ; 
And from the wall, to the water’s edge, 
Wild masses of tendrilled creepers hung ; 
For there was a moat outside where slept 
Deep waters with slimy moss grown o’er, 
And a wall and a tower securely kept 
By a ban-dog fierce at a grated door. 
This garden’s lord was a scholar wise, 
A scholar wise, with a learned look ; 
He studied by night the starry skies, 
And all day long some ancient book. 
There were lords hard by who lived by spoil, 
But he did the men of war eschew ; 
There were lowly serfs who tilled the soil, 
But with toiling serfs he had nought to do. 
But now and then might with him be seen, 
Two other old men with look profound, 
Who peered ’mong the leaves of the mandrake 
green, 
And lightened with care the soil around. 
