America, I Sing My Praise
Beneath the Eagle's outstretched wings, I view
Your greening acres of democracy,
Your lilied fields of peace. Held in God's hand,
You are His ensign to the troubled world!
For hallowed by the Pilgrim Fathers' prayers,
Your land is HOME to all who enter through
Your open gates illumined by the Torch
America, I sing my praise!
Your heart, a chalice high uplifted, brims
With love for little children; (Hear their laughter,
Their dancing footsteps down your avenues.)
For star-tall youth with eyes where dreams are mirrored;
For elder ones who drink fulfillment's wine.
On those grown fragile, gently do you place
A silver crown, then on the last dim trail
You lead them safely to the Gates of Dawn.
Your love is all-embracing, and your arm
Is long to reach across the sea to feed
The hungering. Your tender heart is torn
By might's cruel lash ... Now when, in love, your voice
Asks but a simple thing: Peace for all people,
We whom you nurture rise and give our pledge
To build a shrine of love inviolate
Within the Temple of Humanity.