I′m just in love with all these three, The Weald and the Marsh and the Down country. 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-bine yaller an′ wood-smoke 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 keep my soul for me!
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