Chapter LXXXV

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Thou hast my heart--and freely do I bow,
To bless thee, Freedom, on thy holiest shrine,
And give to thee devotion's warmest vow;
Oh! let thy spirit mingle into mine:
Thy temple is my country, whose far dome
Circles as high as the Almighty's home--
Here, 'mid the glories of Creation's birth,
Thy altars spread around--this is my mother earth.