XII lii
"According to Adam, your bower's confusion
uneven construction, limp perishing vines
A weeding of natives, or
sulphur infusion
would lend it some order, grow stronger woodbines."
He said that? He praises, overtly, my border
with its tropical fruit, in our half-day sun.
Good gardeners display an abhorrence of order.
A sheared border, dear
Adam, 's a bad one.
