Land of the gentle and brave！ Our love is as wide as thy woe； It deepens beside every grave Where the heart of a hero lies low.

    Land of the sunniest skies！ Our love glows the more for thy gloom； Our hearts, by the saddest of ties, Cling closest to thee in thy doom.

    Land where the desolate weep In a sorrow no voice may console！ Our tears are but streams, making deep The ocean of love in our soul.

    Land where the victor's flag waves, Where only the dead are free！ Each link of the chain that enslaves But binds us to them and to thee.

    Land where the Sign of the Cross Its shadow hath everywhere shed！ We measure our love by thy loss, Thy loss by the graves of our dead！