Ah! Never Shall The Land Forget.

A Melancholy Sound Is In The Air, A Deep Sigh In The Distance, A Shrill Wail Around My Dwelling. 'tis The Wind Of Night.

Thou Who Wouldst See The Lovely And The Wild Mingled In Harmony On Nature's Face, Ascend Our Rocky Mountains. Let Thy Foot Fail Not With Weariness, For On Their Tops The Beauty And The Majesty Of Earth, Spread Wide Beneath, Shall Make Thee To Forget The Steep And Toilsome Way.

The Breath Of Springtime At This Twilight Hour Comes Through The Gathering Glooms, And Bears The Stolen Sweets Of Many A Flower Into My Silent Rooms.

Yet Will That Beauteous Image Make The Dreary Sea Less Drear And Thy Remembered Smile Will Wake The Hope That Tramples Fear

Pleasantly, Between The Pelting Showers, The Sunshine Gushes Down.