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Um.. pardon me for not searching more thoroughly to find the answer, but, are you still fencing?
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oh where oh where has our little terra gone?
oh where oh where can she be?
her hair is red, and shoulderlength long, oh where oh where can she be?
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Zembla, Zenda, Xanadu:
All our dream-worlds may come true.
Fairy lands are fearsome too.
As I wander far from view
Read, and bring me home to you
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No growth of moor or coppice,
No heather-flower or vine,
But bloomless buds of poppies,
Green grapes of Proserpine,