Land of the West—beneath the Heaven
There's not a fairer, lovelier clime;
Nor one to which was ever given
A destiny more high, sublime.
—W. D. GALLAGHER
Our country!—'tis a glorious land!
With broad arms stretched from shore to shore,
The broad Pacific chafes her strand,
She hears the dark Atlantic roar;
And nutrured on her ample breast,
How many a goodly prospect lies
In nature's wildest, grandeur chest
Enammell'd with the loveliest dyes.
—W. J. PABODIE
Then, too, sail on, O Ship of State!
Sail on, O Union, strong and great!
Humanity with all its fears,
With all its hopes of future wars,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate.
We know what Master laid thy keel.
Land of the forest and the rock,
Of dark blue lake and mighty river,
Of mountains reared on high to mock
The storm's career and lightning's shock,
My own green land forever!
Oh! never may a son of thine,
Where'er his wandering feet incline
Forget the sky that bent above
His childhood like a dream of love!