Chapter XXIX

And thou, my country, lov’d so dear,
Land of free hearts, and faith sincere,
Fair freedom’s blest, congenial home,
Thou landmark in an age of gloom;
Claim’st, from the gales that round thee sweep,
Thy forests wild, thy summits steep,
Thy rushing torents rudely swelling,
The rocks, thy mighty eagle’s dwelling;--
A hardy, independant band,
The bulwark of thy favor’d land.