Samuel Taylor Coleridge — Devonshire Roads

The indignant Bard composed this furious ode, As tired he dragg'd his way thro' Plimtree road!        &nbsp       &nbspCrusted with filth and stuck in mire        &nbsp       &nbspDull sounds the Bard's bemudded lyre;        &nbsp       &nbspNathless Revenge and Ire the Poet goad        &nbsp       &nbspTo pour his imprecations on the road.        &nbsp       &nbspCurst road! whose execrable way        &nbsp       &nbspWas darkly shadow'd out in Milton's lay,        &nbsp       &nbspWhen the sad fiends thro' Hell's sulphureous roads        &nbsp       &nbspTook the first survey of their new abodes;        &nbsp       &nbspOr when the fall'n Archangel fierce        &nbsp       &nbspDar'd through the realms of Night to pierce,        &nbsp       &nbspWhat time the Bloodhound lur'd by Human scent        &nbsp       &nbspThro' all Confusion's quagmires floundering went. Nor cheering pipe, nor Bird's shrill note Around thy dreary paths shall float; Their boding songs shall scritch-owls pour To fright the guilty shepherds sore, Led by the wandering fires astray Thro' the dank horrors of thy way! While they their mud-lost sandals hunt May all the curses, which they grunt In raging moan like goaded hog, Alight upon thee, damnéd Bog!