America
MY country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers ?
Land of the Pilgirms' pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring.
My native country, thee
Land of the noble [me,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.
Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom's songs,
Let mortal tounges awake,
Let all that breathe partake,
Let rocks their silence brink,
The sound prolong!
Our father's God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To thee we singg:
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.
—Smauel F. Smith, 1832
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