I’m just in love with all these three,
The Weald and the Marsh and the Down countrie;
Nor I don’t know which I love the most,
The Weald or the Marsh or the white chalk coast!
I’ve buried my heart in a ferny hill,
Twix’ a liddle low Shaw an’ a great high Gill.
Oh hop-vine yaller and woodsmoke blue,
I reckon you’ll keep her middling true!
I’ve loosed my mind for to out and run,
On a Marsh that was old when Kings begun;
Oh Romney Level and Brenzett reeds,
I reckon you know what my mind needs!
I’ve given my soul to the Southdown grass,
And sheep-bells tinkled where you pass.
Oh Firle an’ Ditchling an’ sails at sea,
I reckon you’ll keep my soul or me!
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:56