To Dean-bourn, a Rude River in Devon, by Which Sometimes He Lived
Dean-bourn, farewell; I never look to see
Dean, or thy warty incivility.
Thy rocky bottom, that doth tear thy streams,
And makes them frantic, ev'n to all extremes,
To my content I never should behold,
Were thy streams silver, or thy rocks all gold.
Rocky thou art; and rocky we discover
Thy men; and rocky are thy ways all over.
O men, O manners; now, and ever known
To be a rocky generation!
A people currish, churlish as the seas,
And rude (almost) as rudest savages--
With whom I did, and may re-sojourn when
Rocks turn to rivers, rivers turn to men.
Dean, or thy warty incivility.
Thy rocky bottom, that doth tear thy streams,
And makes them frantic, ev'n to all extremes,
To my content I never should behold,
Were thy streams silver, or thy rocks all gold.
Rocky thou art; and rocky we discover
Thy men; and rocky are thy ways all over.
O men, O manners; now, and ever known
To be a rocky generation!
A people currish, churlish as the seas,
And rude (almost) as rudest savages--
With whom I did, and may re-sojourn when
Rocks turn to rivers, rivers turn to men.
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