ALT The poem Two English Gardens by James Thornton: "In a day you can visit both gardens, if you try. But it’s best to linger in each, soaking in the life lived there. The first, backing a Georgian townhouse built with an eye on bilateral symmetry, an acre of lawn and ornamentals all correct, lush and traditional behind high walls, sits in Rye, near the church, by the finest house in town, where he wrote some of his most important books, Henry James. And then by bus and steam railway, a one-third gauge Victorian job you take for a toy, until you see the conductor’s serious eye, to the shingle beach at Dungeness, no trees for miles, only smooth stones, the sea, fishermen’s shacks, and a vast nuclear power plant advertising tours, to a small house in the local black, pertly yellow-trimmed, a garden of seaside plants, beach stone menhirs, a bit of Donne in unruly letters on a wall," The rest of the poem does not fit the description.