Does the land, in native might,
Pant for Liberty and Right?
Long to cast from human kind
Chains of body and of mind—
That's my country, that's the land
I can love with heart and hand,
O'er her miseries weep and sigh,
For her glory live and die.
Does the land her banner wave,
Most invitingly, to save;
Wooing to her arms of love,
Strangers who would freemen prove?
That's the land to which I cling,
Of her glories I can sing,
On her altar nobly swear
Higher still her fame to rear.
Does the land no conquest make,
But the war for honor's sake—
Count the greatest triumph won,
That which most of good has done—
That's the land approved of God;
That's the land whose stainless sod
O'er my sleeping dust shall bloom,
Noblest land and noblest tomb!