Porlock! thy verdant vale so fair to sight, <br />Thy lofty hills which fern and furze imbrown, <br />The waters that roll musically down <br />Thy woody glens, the traveller with delight <br />Recalls to memory, and the channel grey <br />Circling its surges in thy level bay. <br />Porlock! I shall forget thee not, <br />Here by the unwelcome summer rain confined; <br />But often shall hereafter call to mind <br />How here, a patient prisoner, 'twas my lot <br />To wear the lonely, lingering close of day, <br />Making my sonnet by the alehouse fire, <br />Whilst Idleness and Solitude inspire <br />Dull rhymes to pass the duller hours away.<br /><br />Robert Southey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/porlock/
