Lie back my darling, think of Surrey’s hills,
the dales of Yorkshire or the Devon moors,
the tributaries, streams, canals and rills,
the Suffolk fields, the shallow Norfolk shores.
Think of Wembley goalposts and the turf between,
of home-made crumpets topped with cheddar cheese.
Imagine the cricket on the village green
and English honey made by English bees.
Think me the North Sea thrusting into Humber,
a Cornish farmer steady with his plough,
a Gloucester grower with a large cucumber:
or the Cerne Abbas Giant! He is me right now,