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As the sweet voice of a bird,
Heard by the lander in a lonely isle,
Moves him to think what kind of bird it is,
That sings so delicately clear, and make
Conjecture of the plumage and the form.
Fill the cup and fill the can,
Have a rouse before the morn.
Every minute dies a man,
Every minute one is born.
And on her lover's arm she leant,
And round her waist she felt it fold,
And far across the hills they went,
In that new world that is the old.
If the husband once give way
To his wife's capricious sway,
For his breeches he next day
May go to whoop and holloa.
While the storm clouds gather far across the sea,
Let us swear allegiance to a land that's free,
Let us all be grateful for a land so fair,
As we raise our voices in a solemn prayer:
God Bless America.
Land that I love
Stand beside her, and guide her
Through the night with a light from above.
From the mountains, to the prairies,
To the oceans, white with foam
God bless America
My home sweet home.
God Bless America,
Land that I love
Stand beside her,
And guide her,
Through the night
With the light from above,
From the mountains,
To the prairies,
To the ocean,
White with foam,
God bless America,
My home sweet home.
God bless America,
My home sweet home.
To say of shame, what is it?
Of virtue, we can miss it,
Of sin-we can kiss it,
And it's no longer sin.
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die.