My country is the fairest land In all the world to me, Though countries lie on every hand More beautiful to see. To me my country's glory shines Above all other rays, Though all the poets trim their lines In other countries' praise. I grant these other lands more gold, More wisdom and more power, Yet know my native land to hold A far superior dower. For thus my wife is beautiful All other dames above, Measured by no artistic rule, But by the rule of love. And thus my humble home is fair, With wealth beyond the great, Because my dearest ones are there, And love's the real estate. So runs the patriot's paradox His two superlatives, The one that rates the vast world-stocks, The one which he lives! |