Indiana

Our Land-- our Home-- the common home indeed Of soil-born children and adopted ones-- The stately daughters and the stalwart sons Of Industry--: All greeting and godspeed! O home to proudly live for, and if need Be proudly die for, with the roar of guns Blent with our latest prayer--. So died men once... Lo Peace...! As we look on the land They freed-- Its harvests all in ocean-over flow Poured round autumnal coasts in billowy gold-- Its corn and wine and balmed fruits and flow'rs--, We know the exaltation that they know Who now, steadfast inheritors, behold The Land Elysian, marvelling 'This is ours?'