My Country

My country ’tis of Thee,

Who telleth the number of the stars.­­

And with Thy stripes we are healed.

Absolved from all allegiance to sin,

we, the pilgrims, seek a more perfect city.

Declare independence:

where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty,

secured for ourselves and our posterity.

O death, where is thy sting?

Land for which my fathers died,

of thee I sing,

my hand over my heart.