8
When we sweep o’er the valleys or climb
Up the health breaking mountain sublime,
What a joy from our labours we feel,
Which alone they who taste can reveal,
And all the day long, &c.
native land!
Native land! I’ll love thee ever,
Let me raise the welcome strain ;
Mine were banish’d feet, that never
Hop’d to press thy turf again,
Now these eyes illum’d, with gladness,
As they scan’d thy beauties o’er,
Ne'er again shall melt in sadness,
Parting to return no more,
Caledonia, native land,
Native land, I'll love the ever.
Native land, tho’ fate may banish,
And command me far to part,
Never can thy mem’ry vanish,
From this glowing, grateful heart,
Let an Indian solstice burn me.
Or the snows of Norway chill,
Hither still, my heart, I turn thee,
Here, my country, thou art still,
Caledonia, native land,
Native land, I'll love thee ever.
