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.

—Samuel Francis Smith.