Devon, Its Moorlands, Streams and Coasts

by Rosalind Northcote · language: en

Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the lovely original illustrations.

See 22485-h.htm or 22485-h.zip: (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/4/8/22485/22485-h/22485-h.htm) or (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/4/8/22485/22485-h.zip) Transcriber's note: In this text superscript is represented with '^' and a macron with [=o] DEVON ITS MOORLANDS, STREAMS, & COASTS by LADY ROSALIND NORTHCOTE With Illustrations in Colour after Frederick J. Widgery London Exeter Chatto & Windus James G. Commin M CM VIII Deep-wooded combes, clear-mounded hills of morn, Red sunset tides against a red sea-wall, High lonely barrows where the curlews call, Far moors that echo to the ringing horn,-- Devon! thou spirit of all these beauties born, All these are thine, but thou art more than all: Speech can but tell thy name, praise can but fall Beneath the cold white sea-mist of thy scorn.

Yet, yet, O noble land, forbid us not Even now to join our faint memorial chime To the fierce chant wherewith their hearts were hot Who took the tide in thy Imperial prime; Whose glory's thine till Glory sleeps forgot With her ancestral phantoms, Pride and Time.

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