DEVON TO ME.

Where my fathers stood, watching the sea,

Gale-spent herring boats hugging the lea;

There my Mother lives, moorland and tree.

Sight o' the blossoms! Devon to me!

Where my fathers walked, driving the plough;

Whistled their hearts out--who whistles now?--

There my Mother burns fire faggots free.

Scent o' the wood-smoke! Devon to me!

Where my fathers sat, passing their bowls;

--They've no cider now, God rest their souls!

There my Mother feeds red cattle three.

Sup o' the cream-pan! Devon to me!

Where my fathers sleep, turning to dust,

This old body throw when die I must!

There my Mother calls, wakeful is she!

Sound o' the West-wind! Devon to me!

Where my fathers lie, when I am gone,

Who need pity me, dead? Never one!

There my Mother clasps me. Let me be!

Feel o' the red earth! Devon to me!