America

My country, 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing;

Land where my fathers died,

Land of the Pilgrims' pride;

From every mountain side,

Let freedom ring.

My native country, thee—

Land of the noble free—

Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

Thy woods and templed hills;

My heart with rapture thrills,

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song;

Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break—

The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God, to Thee,

Author of liberty,

To Thee we sing:

Long may our land be bright

With freedom's holy light:

Protect us by Thy might,

Great God, our King.

S.F. Smith.