Classic Poem

O what saw you in Flanders,
Fighting for the king?
Rain and mud, and mud and rain,
And never another thing.

O what saw you in Babylon,
Fighting for the king?
Sun and sand, and sand and sun,
And never another thing.

Are there no burns in Flanders,
No tumbling burns that sing?
Are there no braes in Babylon
Bonnie with broom and ling?

There are no burns in Flanders,
No tumbling burns that sing:
There are no braes in Babylon
Bonnie with broom and ling.

Then I'll not go to Flanders,
Nor yet to Babylon,
But keep to my own country's
Clean rain and kindly sun.

Who will may dream of Bagdad
And sigh for Samarkand—
I'll live content with the windy bent
Of green Northumberland.