Mrs. Felicia D. Hemans

Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod,
They have left unstained, what there read more

Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trod,
They have left unstained, what there they found,--
Freedom to worship God.

Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows,
And the fireflies dance thro' the myrtle boughs?

Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows,
And the fireflies dance thro' the myrtle boughs?

The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
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The stately Homes of England,
How beautiful they stand!
Amidst their tall ancestral trees,
O'er all the pleasant land.

What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of read more

What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?--
They sought a faith's pure shrine!

Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
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Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair--
Sorrow and death may not enter there;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child!