I don't care what anybody says, this is a two-doobie mountain-peak song if every there was one. It should be an act of congress.
A truer devotion to salubrious principles could not be wished.
America the Beautiful
O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!
O beautiful for pilgrim feet
ose stern, impassioned stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!
O beautiful for heroes proved In liberating strife.
Who more than self the country loved
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness
And every gain divine!
O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!
O beautiful for halcyon skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the enameled plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till souls wax fair as earth and air
And music-hearted sea!
O beautiful for pilgrims feet,
Whose stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America ! America !
God shed his grace on thee
Till paths be wrought through
wilds of thought
By pilgrim foot and knee!
O beautiful for glory-tale
Of liberating strife
When once and twice,
for man's avail
Men lavished precious life !
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till selfish gain no longer stain
The banner of the free!
O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
Till nobler men keep once again
Thy whiter jubilee!
Obligatory mining stuff. I know how sad you are stocks prices have dropped so low. So now you sit alone and hang your head and cry. Do not despair, my friend, it is just the dog days of summer that makes it seem that prosperity languishes. It is but ripple in the endless river of time. Mighty days will soon be here again.
Think for a moment of your childhood days when the skies would look so grey, you thought that sadness would never end. Your mother would take you on her knee, brush away your tears and kiss your furrowed brow. As she whispered in your ear in a soothing tone, the clouds would roll away, the sun would shine and your heart forgot its pain. Softly in your soul, her voice repeats, "It'll be alright, my wayward son, when the day is done".
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