My Land

She is a rich and rare land ;
O she's a fresh and fair land ;
She is a dear and rare land —
This native land of mine.

No men than hers are braver —
Her women's hearts ne'er waver ;
I'd freely die to save her,
And think my lot divine.

She's not a dull or cold land ;
No ! she's a warm and bold land ;
O she's a true and old land —
This native land of mine.

Could beauty ever guard her,
And virtue still reward her,
No foe would cross her border-
No friend within it pine !

O she's a fresh and fair land,
O she's a true and rare land !
Yes, she's a rare and fair land-
This native land of mine.