Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to read more

Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand!

My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy read more

My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

To be really cosmopolitan a man must be at home even in his own
country.
- read more

To be really cosmopolitan a man must be at home even in his own
country.
- Thomas W. Higginson,

What exile from his country is able to escape from himself?
[Lat., Patriae quis exul se quoque fugit.]

What exile from his country is able to escape from himself?
[Lat., Patriae quis exul se quoque fugit.]

There ought to be system of manners in every nation which a
well-formed mind would be disposed to relish. read more

There ought to be system of manners in every nation which a
well-formed mind would be disposed to relish. To make us love
our country, our country ought to be lovely.

Our country is wherever we are well off.
[Lat., Patria est, ubicunque est bene.]

Our country is wherever we are well off.
[Lat., Patria est, ubicunque est bene.]

And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a read more

And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a successive title, long and dark,
Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark.

Who dare to love their country, and be poor.

Who dare to love their country, and be poor.

They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
read more

They love their land, because it is their own,
And scorn to give aught other reason why;
Would shake hands with a king upon his throne,
And think it kindness to his majesty.