It lacks the pleasant reddish brown
Of the tiled house-tops out of town,
And cannot even hope to match
The modest beauty of the thatch:
Nor is it Gothic or grotesque -
No gable breaks, with quaint design,
Its hard monotony of line,
And not a gargoyle on the spout
Brings any latent beauty out:
Its only charm - I hold it high -
Is just its nearness to the sky.
- from An Autumn Flitting by George Cotterell
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