The Indian Advocate
There is a land, of every land the pride,
Belov'd by Heaven o'er all the world beside,
Where brighter suns dispense serener light
And milder moons emparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valor, truth,
Time tutored age, and love exalted youth.
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so beautiful and fair,
Nor breathes a spirit of a purer air:
In every clime the magnet of his soul,
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles at that pole;
For in this land of Heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth supremely blest '
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword, and sceptre, pageantry, and pride;
Within his softened looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, father, friend:
Here, xvoman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strews, with fresh flowers, the narrow way of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye
An angel guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees, domestic duties meet,
And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man? A patriot? Look around.
Ohl thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
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