From Lynton when you drive to Porlock, Just take old Tempus by the forelock -- In any case, don't hurry; time and tide -- Of course -- I know. But, where the roads divide, Upon the moor, Be sure To shun the @3via dextra@1, And choose the marvellous ride (One half-hour extra) That zigzags to a gate Nigh Porlock town -- O, it is great, That strip of Channel sea, Backed with the prime of English Arcady! It is not that the heather rushes In mad tumultuous flushes (@3Trickling@1's the word I'd use); But O, the greens and blues And browns whereon the crimson dwells; The buds, the bells; The drop from arch to arch Of pine and larch; The scented glooms where soft sun-fainting culvers Elude the eye, And fox-gloves, like innumerous-celled revolvers Shoot honey-tongued quintessence of July! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SIC VITA by HENRY DAVID THOREAU BOTHWELL: PART 2 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN BALAUSTION'S ADVENTURE: PART 5 by ROBERT BROWNING THANKSGIVING HYMN by JOHN BYROM THE LATIN TONGUE by JAMES J. DALY THE TREASURE BOX by THOMAS AUGUSTINE DALY POOR CROW! by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE TO THE COUNTESS OF BEDFORD [ON NEW YEARES DAY] by JOHN DONNE |