How beautiful are thy hills and thy dales!
I love thy very atmosphere so sweet,
Thy trees adorn the landscape rough and steep
No other country in the whole world
could with thee compare.

It is here where our noble ancestors,
Experienced joys of dear ones and of home;
Where great and glorious kingdoms rose and
fell
Where blood was shed to save thee, thou
dearest Land ever known;

But, Alas! their efforts, were all in vain,
For to-day others claim thee as their own;
No longer can their off-spring cherish thee
No land to call their own – but outcasts
in their own country!

Despair of thee I never, never will,
Struggle I must for freedom – God’s great gift
–
Till every drop of blood within my veins
Shall dry upon my troubled bones, oh
thou Dearest Native Land!