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GLORIOUS DEVON (Sir Edward German (m) Sir Harold Boulton (l) 1905) as recorded by Peter Dawson with orchestra conducted by George W Byng 1929 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 a garden hard by heaven, They planted another one down in the west, 'Twas Devon, 'twas Devon, glorious Devon! Spirits of old world heroes wake By river and cove and hoe; Grenville, Hawkins, Raleigh and Drake, And a thousand more we know! To every land the wide world o'er, Some slips of the old stock roam, Leal 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 lider brew, Riches of cream from the cow, What'd old England without 'em do, And where'd it be to now? As crumpy as a lump of lead Be a loaf without good leaven, But the yeast mother England do use for her bread Be Devon, be Devon, glorious Devon! (Transcribed by Peter Akers - August 2017)

    


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