Our Country On primal rocks she wrote her name; Her towers were reared on holy graves; The golden seed that bore her came Swift-winged with prayer o'er ocean waves. The Forest bowed his solemn crest, And open flung his sylvan doors; Meek Rivers led the appointed guest
Our Country (Poem 004)
Our Country (Poem 004)
Our Country (Poem 004)
Our Country On primal rocks she wrote her name; Her towers were reared on holy graves; The golden seed that bore her came Swift-winged with prayer o'er ocean waves. The Forest bowed his solemn crest, And open flung his sylvan doors; Meek Rivers led the appointed guest