George Pope Morris (Джордж Поуп Моррис)
The Land of Washington
I glory in the sages Who, in the days of yore, In combat met the foemen, And drove them from our shore. Who flung our banner's starry field In triumph to the breeze, And spread broad maps of cities where Once waved the forest-trees. —Hurrah!— I glory in the spirit Which goaded them to rise And found a might nation Beneath the western skies. No clime so bright and beautiful As that where sets the sun; No land so fertile, fair, and free, As that of Washington —Hurrah!—
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