She is a rich and rare land;
Oh! she’s a fresh and fair land;
She is a dear and rare land –
This native land of mine.

No men than her’s are braver –
her women’s hearts never waver;
I’d freely die to save her,
And think my lot divine.

She’s not a dull or cold land;
No! She’s a warm and bold land;
Oh! she’s a true and old land –
This native land of mine.

Could beauty ever guard her,
And virtue still reward her,
no foe would cross her border –
no friend within it pine!

Oh” she’s a fresh and fair land;
Oh! she’s a true and rare land;
Yes! She’s a rare and fair land –
This native land of mine.