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Show MY NATIVE LAND. Though far I've roamed in other lands, In search of pleasure's sweets, And grasp'd with fervor friendly hands, Where heart its fellow greets- Yet e'en when mirth hath reigned supreme, Among the proud and gay, My thoughts with fancies rich would teem, Of childhood's happy day. When wine hath been the social fount, From which kind friends would sip, And joyous wit would lightly mount, Unto each haughty lip,- My mind hath track's her sunny flight Far to my own loved home, When dwell fond hopes forever bright As heaven's star-lit dome. Where'er my wand'ring footsteps turn Glad sights break on my view, My heart with rapture seems to burn At scenes of fairy hue; In visions sweet I oftimes see Colombia's brighter charms- Dear land! I fondly turn to thee, To die within thine arms! |