O MOTHER-COUNTRY! Of a continent The fairest lands and climes we proudly hold; And flocks, and herds, and corn, and wine, and gold, And stately cities, of earth's rarest blent, Are richly ours; and we are well content With our bright world, our banner's starry fold, And would not be by other name enrolled — Yet how we love thee through our one descent, Our common tongue, our old, immortal story! Imperial England, throned amid the seas, Under all suns thy daring bugles blow; The east winds and the west waft thy decrees; — Forever light, law, liberty, bestow, And farthest ages celebrate thy glory! |