From off thy wide prairies of splendor the treasures of autumn shall pour,
The breezes shall sweep from the northward, and hurry the ships to thy shore!
For Heaven will look downward in mercy on those who've passed under the rod,
And happ'ly again they will prosper, and bask in the blessings of God.
Once more thou shalt stand mid the cities, by prosperous breezes caressed,
O grand and unconquered Chicago, still Queen of the North and the West!
