In seventeen twenty four, they started to build,
To extend a house, prominent in the field.
A Georgian mansion built, to rival Chatsworth's Estate,
But today looking on, at its dilapidated state.
In the Baroque style, so commanding and bold,
Was let to decay, for salvage was sold.
The oak panelled rooms, stripped to the brick,
Ornamental plaster was smashed, makes me feel sick.
This was best building, for many miles around,
Now only fireplace left, the servants quarters found.
Windows were so taken, the ceilings to sell,
The lead on the roof, structural beams as well.
The walls were next, but saved from fate,
Sir Osbert Sitwell bought, before was too late.
He paid for works, to protect the shell,
This grand old house, has gone through hell.