Georgia

Hail, my native Georgia!
Fair are thy sunny skies,
Thy mountains grand on every hand
In splendor round me rise;
And down thy fertile valleys fair
Bright sparkling streamlets flow,
Whilst flowers rare perfume the air
And set thy hills aglow.

Great Empire of the South,
Of all thou art the best,
For every toil upon thy soil
Returns a bounty blest.
Thy every mound and every hill
A wealth of minerals hold,
Which waits but skill, the pick and drill,
Bright treasures to unfold.

Thy rivers at their source
Flow forth from beds of gold,
And down the land through valleys grand
They sweep in billows bold.
And on their waves thy commerce great
Finds exit to the sea,
And nations all, both great and small.
Pay tribute unto thee.

Thy sons in war are true and brave.
In peace their virtues glow;
No traitor's name or coward's shame
Doth thy proud records show,
But thy bright star on freedom's flag,
As luminous as at birth. Will ever shine with light divine
Whilst freedom dwells on earth.

Thou art a land of happy homes,
Where peace and pleasure reigns;
Thy pretty girls, earth's treasure pearls,
Make famous thy domains.
Thou art indeed supremely blest
By nature's thousand charms;
Great mines of wealth and founts of health
Thou claspest in thine arms.

And thou hast many mountains grand,
And valleys fair to see,
And Heaven's sun ne'er shone upon
A fairer land than thee;
And as thy wandering son returns,
Resolved no more to roam,
He lifts his song in measures strong
To praise his native home.