Girded by the broad Atlantic
And the vast Pacific wide;
Rocky mountains towering skyward
On the western surf held side.
Land of plenty in thy feastings
Slight not one who gave thee all,
And forget not that self-centered
Nations are the first to fall.
May the God who rules above thee
Pour into thy outstretched hands
From the flowing horn of plenty;
Peace within thy border lands.
May the skies be blue above thee;
Richest blessings o’er thee flow;
Faith uphold thee, love attend thee
As thy cities thrive and grow.
May the God who rules with mercy
Set for thee a place above;
Draw thee to His mighty bosom
As a child or lamb He loves.
May He bless thee, guard thee, keep thee,
Guide thee o’er thy onward way;
Till the tides of time shall sweep thee
To the land of endless day.
– Circa 1930