There's no glory like those who save their country.

Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some devine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.

For I dipped into the future, far as human eye could see, Saw the Vision of the world, and all the wonder that would be.

That man's the best cosmopolite Who loves his native country best.

Men may come and men may go but I go on forever.

And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!

Cast all your cares on God; that anchor holds.