Classic Poem

When I am living in the Midlands
— That are sodden and unkind,
I light my lamp in the evening:
— My work is left behind;
And the great hills of the South Country
— Come back into my mind.

The great hills of the South Country
— They stand along the sea;
And it's there walking in the high woods
— That I could wish to be,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
— Walking along with me.

The men that live in North England
— I saw them for a day:
Their hearts are set upon the waste fells,
— Their skies are fast and gray;
From their castle-walls a man may see
— The mountains far away.

The men that live in West England
— They see the Severn strong,
A-rolling on rough water brown
— Light aspen leaves along.
They have the secret of the Rocks,
— And the oldest kind of song.

But the men that live in the South Country
— Are the kindest and most wise,
They get their laughter from the loud surf,
— And the faith in their happy eyes
Comes surely from our Sister the Spring
— When over the sea she flies;
The violets suddenly bloom at her feet,
— She blesses us with surprise.

I never get between the pines
— But I smell the Sussex air;
Nor I never come on a belt of sand
— But my home is there.
And along the sky the line of the Downs
— So noble and so bare.

A lost thing could I never find,
— Nor a broken thing mend:
And I fear I shall be all alone
— When I get towards the end.
Who will there be to comfort me
— Or who will be my friend?

I will gather and carefully make my friends
— Of the men of the Sussex Weald,
They watch the stars from silent folds,
— They stiffly plough the field
By them and the God of the South Country
— My poor soul shall be healed.

If I ever become a rich man,
— Or if ever I grow to be old,
I will build a house with deep thatch
— To shelter me from the cold,
And there shall the Sussex songs be sung
— And the story of Sussex told.

I will hold my house in the high wood
— Within a walk of the sea,
And the men that were boys when I was a boy
— Shall sit and drink with me.