Where fertile fields teem with abundant grain,
Hunger ne'er casts its shadow on the door,
And Famine hath no lodge on hill or plain.
In truth doth Luxury with Plenty vie
To fill our laps with all the luscious things
That Nature doth provide—loath to deny
The satisfaction that such bounty brings.
To us was Freedom's heritage bequeathed
To have and hold while life and pride remain:
And so our sword must ever be unsheathed