Very rough but very heartfelt.
To My Beloved Country
Mountain-crowned and glorious expanse,
deep-canyoned and deep-hearted,
in which the wheat-sown oceans dance
and minds and freedoms are not soon parted,
sweet-honeytongued singer of the song
of freedom's hope and inalienable right,
quick to passion at injustice and at wrong,
swift to share your light!
Firewheels on hillsides without end,
bluebonnets mantling royal fields,
land where storm and grace both descend
and all things offer up a tenfold yield,
except for dreams with a hundredfold increase,
where all look to the future that may be,
where generous hearts spread, it seems, without cease,
on every side from sea to splendid sea,
alas! My heart is troubled and I fear
on nights when stars sing out a sobbing note
that none may harm your glory here
but you may slit your own fair throat.
Walk softly, walk gently, and recall,
though no barbarian can overcome your power,
that you yourself have power to bring the fall
and haste that darkest hour.
And fear! Fear Justice and her laws,
which none survive who mock and scorn.
Hold her in your heart with proper awe
that you, and I, we all, may see another morn.