"I have enjoyed the most delightful walks these three fine days， beautiful enough to make me content."

    Here all the summer could I stay，

    For there's a Bishop's Teign，

    And King's Teign，

    And Coomb at the clear Teign's head；

    Where， close by the stream，

    You may have your cream，

    All spread upon barley bread.

    There's Arch Brook，

    And there's Larch Brook，-

    Both turning many a mill；

    And cooling the drouth

    Of the salmon's mouth，

    And fattening his silver gill.

    There's a wild wood，

    A mild hood，

    To the sheep on the lea o' the down，

    Where the golden furze，

    With its green， thin spurs，

    Doth catch at the maiden's gown.

    There's Newton Marsh，

    With its spear-grass harsh，-

    A pleasant summer level；

    Where the maidens sweet

    Of the Market street，

    Do meet in the dark to revel.

    There's Barton rich

    With dyke and ditch，

    And hedge for the thrush to live in.

    And the hollow tree

    For the buzzing bee，

    And a bank for the wasp to hive in.

    And O and O

    The daisies blow，

    And the primroses are waken'd；

    And the violets white

    Sit in silver light，

    And the green buds are long in the spike end.

    Then who would go

    Into dark Soho，

    And chatter with dank-hair'd critics，

    When he can stay

    For the new- mown hay，

    And startle the dappled crickets？