Classic Poem

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

No men than her's 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;
Oh! 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!

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