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Samuel Francis Smith

My country, 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty;

Of thee I sing;

Land where my fathers died,

Land of the pilgrims' pride—

From every mountain side

Let freedom ring.

My native country, thee,

Land of the noble free—

Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,

Thy woods and templed hills;

My heart with rapture thrills

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song;

Let mortal tongues awake,

Let all that breathe partake!

Let rocks their silence break—

The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God—to Thee,

Author of liberty,

To Thee we sing;

Long may our land be bright

With freedom's holy light;

Protect us by thy might,

Great God, our King.