HAVE you ever been down to my countree <br /> Where the trees are green and tall? <br />The days are long and the heavens are high, <br /> But the people there are small. <br />There is no work there; it is always play; <br /> The sun is sweet in the morn; <br />But a thousand dark things walk at night <br /> In the land where I was born. <br /> <br />Have you ever been down to my countree <br /> Where the birds made happy Spring? <br />The parrots screamed from the honey-trees, <br /> And the jays hopped chattering. <br />Strange were the ways of the water-birds <br /> In the brown swamps, night and morn; <br />I knew the roads they had in the reeds <br /> In the land where I was born. <br /> <br />Have you ever been down to my countree? <br /> Have you ridden the horses there? <br />They had silver manes, and we made them prance <br /> And plunge and gallop and rear. <br />We were knights of the olden time, <br /> When the old chain-mail was worn: <br />The swords would flash and the helmets crash <br /> In the land where I was born. <br /> <br />Have you ever been down to my countree? <br /> It was full of smiling queens: <br />They had flaxen hair, they were white and fair, <br /> But they never reached their teens. <br />Their shoes were small and their dreams were tall: <br /> Wonderful frocks were worn; <br />But the queens all strayed from the place we played, <br /> In the land where I was born. <br /> <br />I know you have been to my countree <br /> Though I never saw you there; <br />I know you have loved all things I have loved, <br /> Flowery, sweet, and fair. <br />The days were long,—it was always play; <br /> But we,—we were tired and worn; <br />They could not welcome us back again <br /> To the land where I was born.<br /><br />John Shaw Neilson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-land-where-i-was-born/
