Where man's profane and tainting hand
Natures primaeval loveliness has marred,
And some few souls of the high bliss debarred
Which else obey her powerful command;
...mountain piles
That load in grandeur Cambria's emerald vales.
Fragment Of A Sonnet. Farewell To North Devon
written byPercy Bysshe Shelley
© Percy Bysshe Shelley