Glorious Devon

Glorious Devon - Al Bowlly

Coombe and Tor green meadow and lane

Birds on the waving bough

Beetling cliffs by the surging main

Rich red loam for the plough

Devon's the fount of the bravest blood

That braces England's breed

Her maidens fair as the apple bud

And her men are men indeed

When Adam and Eve were dispossessed

Of the Garden hard by Heaven

They planted another one down in the West

Twas Devon twas Devon glorious Devon

Spirits to old world heroes wake

By river and cove and hoe

Grenville Hawkins Raleigh and Drake

And a thousand more we know

To every hand the wide world or

Some slips of the old stock roam

Loyal friends in peace dread foes in war

With hearts still true to home

Old England's counties by the sea

From east to west are seven

But the gem of that fair galaxy

Is Devon is Devon glorious Devon

Dorset Somerset Cornwall Wales

May envy the likes of we

For the flower of the West the first the best

The pick of the bunch us be

Squab pie junket and cider brew

Richest cream of the cow

What would Old England without them do

And where udun be to now

As crumpy as a lump of lead

Be a loaf without good leaven

And the yeast Mother England do use for her bread

Be Devon be Devon glorious Devon