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America a poem by Henry van Dyke

Henry van Dyke

I love thine inland seas, 
Thy groves of giant trees, 
Thy rolling plains; 
Thy rivers' mighty sweep, 
Thy mystic canyons deep, 
Thy mountains wild and steep, 
All thy domains; 

Thy silver Eastern strands, 
Thy Golden Gate that stands 
Wide to the West; 
Thy flowery Southland fair, 
Thy sweet and crystal air,  
O land beyond compare, 
Thee I love best! 


America a poem by Henry van Dyke


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