In the Land of Dakota: A Little Book of North Dakota Verse

by Huldah Lucile Winsted

See! The sun is slowly rising
O’er the level fields of grain,
Restless, golden billows surging
On a vast and boundless main.—

Hark! A distant sound is breaking
Through the stillness deep and calm—
O’er the prairies floats the cadence
Of sweet Nature’s morning psalm.

---

DAKOTA LAND, DAKOTA LAND

Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy rolling prairies;
Thy “bad lands” ’yond Missouri’s bed
The fertile valley of the Red—
Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy rolling prairies.

Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy sunset fires;
Thy sunny days, thy azure skies,
Thy starry nights, thy sunrise dyes—
Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy sunset fires.

Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy modest wild rose;
Thy fields of waving, golden grain,
Like billows on a boundless main—
Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy modest wild rose.

Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy changing seasons;
Thy winter’s cold, thy summer nights,
Thy blust’ry spring, thy autumn bright—
Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy changing seasons.

Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy far horizons;
No mountains hide the gorgeous dyes
That paint with splendour western skies—
Dakota Land, Dakota Land,
We love thy far horizons.