Fair is this land through which we ride
To that far keep, our bridal bower:
A sacred land of strength and pride,
A land of beauty and of power.
A mountain land through virtue bold,
High built, and bordering on the sun;
A prophet-trodden land, and old;
Our own unvanquished Lebanon!
The hermit's grot her gorges guard—
The patriarch's tomb. There snowy dome