The Land where I was Born

Have you ever been down to my countree
Where the trees are green and tall ?
The days are long and the heavens are high,
But the people there are small.
There is no work there ; it is always play ;
The sun is sweet in the morn ;
But a thousand dark things walk at night
In the land where I was born.

Have you ever been down to my countree
Where the birds made happy Spring ?
The parrots screamed from the honey-trees,
And the jays hopped chattering.
Strange were the ways of the water-birds
In the brown swamps, night and morn ;
I knew the roads they had in the reeds
In the land where I was born.

Have you ever been down to my countree ?
Have you ridden the horses there ?
They had silver manes, and we made them prance
And plunge and gallop and rear.
We were knights of the olden time,
When the old chain-mail was worn :
The swords would flash and the helmets crash
In the land where I was born.

Have you ever been down to my countree ?
It was full of smiling queens :
They had flaxen hair, they were white and fair,
But they never reached their teens.
Their shoes were small and their dreams were tall :
Wonderful frocks were worn ;
But the queens all strayed from the place we played,
In the land where I was born.

I know you have been to my countree
Though I never saw you there ;
I know you have loved all things I have loved,
Flowery, sweet, and fair.
The days were long, — it was always play ;
But we, — we were tired and worn ;
They could not welcome us back again
To the land where I was born.