MINE EYES TO SEA.  

Mine eyes to Sea, O Lord,
Here I sit, quiet, alone, well almost alone,
Listening semi-consciously to the winds four that howl,
And Sea which roar, with foaming white crests of spray,

The Sun is shining at me with that Ghostly grin
As if to say, I'll be back once more my friend. just wait and see,
For we are in the longest of all British Seasons ,Winter cold and bleak,
Though Christmas has gone before,
So the joys of Spring cannot be far away,
These are the things that mine eyes to see, O Lord,

Tis now that locals as myself 
Wander the Golden Coast, and tread these glistening sands,
Wrapped up warm, with scarves a-drooping,
Noses red, ears a funny shade of blue,
And eyes a- weeping with the cold,
We wander, stopping momentarily to stare at Ludy
As generations before have done,
An Isle full of Magic and mystery.

When Sun is hot, again my Friend,
The shall Folks come from afar,
To bathe again upon these Golden Coasts, O Lord.

Charles Kingsley's Westward ho!
I see,
Hartland Point., I do spy,
With its light,
As I taste, taste the Salt upon my tongue,
Henry Williamson's famous two rivers, continually bid adieu
 Adieu,

And I wave a sad farewell,
For somewhere beyond mine eyes my friend,
Is another Shore,
Where Gods mighty, Mighty, Seas do Roar. 

The North Devon Coast.