Hail to the land whereon we tread, Our fondest boast! The sepulchres of mighty dead, The truest hearts that ever bled, Who sleep on glory’s brightest… - James Gates Percival

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Hail to the land whereon we tread,
Our fondest boast! The sepulchres of mighty dead,
The truest hearts that ever bled,
Who sleep on glory’s brightest bed, A fearless host:
No slave is here:—our unchained feet,
Walk freely as the waves that beat
Our coast.