Peter Warlock — My Own Country

I shall go without companions And with nothing in my hand; I shall pass through many places That I cannot understand - Until I come to my own country Which is a pleasant land! The trees that grow in my own country Are the beech tree and the yew; Many stand together And some stand few In the month of May in my own country All the woods are new When I get to my own country I shall lie down and sleep; I shall watch in the valleys The long flocks of sheep And then I shall dream, for ever and all A good dream and deep