My Country


My country, what of thee?

What has thou done for me, T

hat I may sing?

In Labor’s crowded mart,

Longing to do my part,

Strong hands and willing heart

To thee I bring.


Cradled by Mother Earth,

Riches of untold worth

Lie idle ’round;

While blood and toil and care,

Men, striving, will not spare,

To get the smaller share

Above the ground.


Within a quart of seed –

(Enough for every need,

To plow and plant),

There lies in goodly store,

Food for the starving poor –

Each season more and more

For every want.


Let Justice rule the world,

Then, all the flags unfurled

Will be as one,

Labor must lead the fight:

Conquering wrongs that blight,

Saying unto the Right,

“Thy will be done.”