Foxgloves

Pink-purple foxgloves
Leaning to the breeze--
And all the sweet of Devon
Sweeps back across the seas:

The deep coombs of Devon
Where the tiny hamlets nest,
The golden sea of Devon
That glimmers toward the west:

The thatched roofs of Devon
To which the soft skies bend--
Now the dear God keep Devon
The same to His world’s end!