SWEET DEVONSHIRE. Sweet Devonshire, the land of Sweet hills With small Copse and woodland, Sweet Country lanes, Thatched Cottages, And Birds singing Summer's Sweet song,. Sweet Devonshire, babbling brooks, Clear as crystal,, Slow 'n' Peaceful rivers, In Summer's dog day heat. This is my land, and the land that I love. Sweet Devonshire, of high wind swept Tors, Golden Sands and mighty Seas, Leaving little Ships Bob, bob, bobbing, Along on silver darling Seas, And although I shall leave, Go afar, I shall return, On Cream Tea Lawns, To my Sweet Devonshire. By Andrew Fry. First Published in Clouds and Clouds 1985.