| | XXXVII | | | Q |
| | | |
| As through the wild green hills of Wyre | | C | |
| The train ran, changing sky and shire, | | C | |
| And far behind, a fading crest, | | | |
| Low in the forsaken west | | | Q |
| Sank the high-reared head of Clee, | 5 | C | |
| My hand lay empty on my knee. | | | |
| V | Aching on my knee it lay: | | | |
| V | That morning half a shire away | | | |
| V | So many an honest fellow's fist | | | |
| V | Had well-nigh wrung it from the wrist. | 10 | | |
| Hand, said I, since now we part | | | |
| From fields and men we know by heart, | | | |
| For strangers' faces, strangers' lands, - | | | |
| Hand, you have held true fellows' hands. | | | |
| V | Be clean then; rot before you do | 15 | | |
| A thing they'd not believe of you. | | | |
| You and I must keep from shame | | | |
| In London streets the Shropshire name; | | | |
| On banks of Thames they must not say | | | |
| Severn breeds worse men than they; | 20 | | |
| V | And friends abroad must bear in mind | | | Q |
| V | Friends at home they leave behind. | | | |
| Oh, I shall be stiff and cold | | | |
| V | When I forget you, hearts of gold; | | | |
| V | The land where I shall mind you not | 25 | | |
| V | Is the land where all's forgot. | | | |
| And if my foot returns no more | | | |
| To Teme nor Corve nor Severn shore, | | C | |
| V | Luck, my lads, be with you still | | | Q |
| V | By falling stream and standing hill, | 30 | | |
| V | By chiming tower and whispering tree, | | | Q |
| Men that made a man of me. | | | |
| About your work in town and farm | | | |
| Still you'll keep my head from harm, | | | |
| V | Still you'll help me, hands that gave | 35 | | |
| V | A grasp to friend me to the grave. | | | |