Here you will find the Poem My Country Love of poet Norman Rowland Gale
If you passed her in your city You would call her badly dressed, But the faded homespun covers Such a heart in such a breast! True, her rosy face is freckled By the sun's abundant flame, But she's mine with all her failings, And I love her just the same. If her hands are red they grapple To my hands with splendid strength, For she's mine, all mine's the beauty Of her straight and lovely length! True, her hose be think and homely And her speech is homely, too; But she's mine! her rarest charm is She's for me, and not for you!