Tell England that I love her
I love her windswept field
Her rusling waving harvest
Which golden autumn yields
I love her sunburnt furrows
That throb with life aglow
Her queenly grace, her fair sweet face
Dear land, I love you so
Tell England that I love her
Although she already knows
Her beauty is my only spur
But how my love grows
Tell England that I love her
I tread her fields by day
With quickened peace and eager
Across her furrowed way
In freedoms flaming sunshine
The young green corn shall blow
Joy shall spring and men shall sing
Dear land, I love you so
Tell England that I love her
Those field shall be my toil
My plough shall sweep the furrows
An liberty�s sweet soil
Until a golden harvest
On Englands field shall stand
All fair and white a flame so bright
The glory of my land