The love of field and coppice,
  Of green and shaded lanes,
Of ordered woods and gardens
  Is running in your veins;
Strong love of grey-blue distance,
  Brown streams and soft, dim skies—
I know but cannot share it,
  My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,
  A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
  Of droughts and flooding rains;
I love her far horizons,
  I love her jewel-sea,
Her beauty and her terror—
  The wide brown land for me!