Classic Poem

S ALCOMBE Hill and three hills more
Lie to leftward of this shore.
On the right Peak Hill arises
Sickening, like the other four.

Two score rotting years I 've seen
Sidmouth sit those hills between:
Only Sidmouth — and twice over
Must I bide it, as I've been:

Then a churchyard hold for me,
By the dull voice of the sea.
Rotting, still in Sidmouth rotting,
Rotting to eternity.