Classic Poem

How comely is our motherland,
With joy for every eye!
O'er sunlit vales her mountains stand,
Her prairies kiss the sky.
From many an autumn-bordered lake
Her fair streams seek the shore.
We love her for her beauty's sake,
But most for something more.

What vigor in her throb and tread!
How dauntless is her mind!
She plants that continents be fed,
And never looks behind.
The magic of her lamp and tower
O'ermates Aladdin's lore.
We love her for her bounteous power,
But most for something more.

We love her for her tender heart,
That thrills at Pity's call,
Her will that Freedom's goodly part
Shall be the share of all.

Lord of the stricken world, we ask,
(Proud peace or holy war),
Renew her might for every task
And guard her as of yore.