Dost thou not know God's country, where it lies?
That land long dreamed of, more desired than gold,
Which noble souls, by dauntless hope made bold,
Have searched the future for with longing eyes!
Hast thou not seen in heaven its hills arise?
Hast thou not viewed its glories manifold,
'Midst sky-wide scenery splendidly unrolled,
Ripe for hearts' trust and godlike enterprise?
Yes, thou hast known it in familiar guise,
Its soil thy feet are keeping with fast hold;
And thou dost love its songs, its flowers dost prize;
Thy corn-land and thy wine-land is its mould:
'Tis here,—'tis here God's land lies, the devine,
America, thy heart's true home and mine!