Lines composed while climbing the left ascent of Brockley Coomb, May 1795 <br /> <br />With many a pause and oft reverted eye <br />I climb the Coomb's ascent: sweet songsters near <br />Warble in shade their wild-wood melody: <br />Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear. <br />Up scour the startling stragglers of the flock <br />That on green plots o'er precipices browse: <br />From the deep fissures of the naked rock <br />The Yew-tree bursts! Beneath its dark green boughs <br />('Mid which the May-thorn blends its blossoms white) <br />Where broad smooth stones jut out in mossy seats, <br />I rest:—and now have gained the topmost site. <br />Ah! what a luxury of landscape meets <br />My gaze! Proud towers, and Cots more dear to me, <br />Elm-shadowed Fields, and prospect-bounding Sea. <br />Deep sighs my lonely heart: I drop the tear: <br />Enchanting spot! O were my Sara here.<br /><br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/brockley-coomb/
