English poem
Virginia Home of Honor
Oh, home of honor, native land, When roaming o'er the sea, The eye still turns, the heart still yearns, O dearest home, for thee. When ranged around the social board, We bid our sorrows flee, We own a pride that we are sons, O dearest home, of thee.
If earth retains one single draught Of pure and tranquil joy, Within whose sweet and sparkling wave, Is mixt no sad alloy; 'Tis here we taste it while we sit, Beneath our natal tree, 'Tis here it glads our heart of hearts, O dearest home, with thee.
When we are cast on foreign shores, Beyond the dark-blue sea, Sad memory oft returns to weep, O dearest home, with thee, And when the knell of death shall come, And set our spirits free, Our hearts shall find their sweetest rest, O dearest home, with thee.