Fragment of a Sonnet: Farewell to North Devon
Farewell to North Devon
Where man's profane and tainting hand
Nature's primaeval loveliness has marred,
And some few souls of the high bliss debarred
Which else obey her powerful command;
. . . mountain piles
That load in grandeur Cambria's emerald vales.
Where man's profane and tainting hand
Nature's primaeval loveliness has marred,
And some few souls of the high bliss debarred
Which else obey her powerful command;
. . . mountain piles
That load in grandeur Cambria's emerald vales.
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