My dearest, lovely, native land,
Where peace and pleasure grow,
Where joy with fairest, softest hand,
Wipes off the tear of woe;
Thy Sabbath’s laws and happy shores,
And names I love them well,
And looking o’er those richest stores,
How can I say “Farewell”?
Kindred, and friends, and native land,
How shall we say “Farewell”?
How, when our swelling souls expand,
How will our bosoms swell,
Yes, nature all thy soft delights,
And tender ties we know;
But love more strong than death unites
To Him that bids us go.
Thus when our ev’ry passion moved,
The gushing teardrops start,
The cause of Jesus, more beloved,
Shall glow within our hearts.
The sighs we breathe for precious souls,
Where He is yet unknown,
Might waft us to the distant poles
Or to the burning zones.