My dear­est, love­ly, na­tive land,
Where peace and plea­sure grow,
Where joy with fair­est, soft­est hand,
Wipes off the tears of woe—
Thy Sab­baths, laws, and hap­py shores,
And names, I love them well,
And look­ing o’er those rich­est stores,
How can I say, Fare­well!

O sac­red home, how sweet thou art,
And all thy scenes how dear!
Thou dost with chords en­twine my heart,
And seem’st to say, Stay here!
Thou al­ways didst an an­gel prove,
My youth­ful fears to quell,
Thou still art clad with smiles of love,
And can I say, Fare­well!

My par­ents, bro­thers, sis­ters, friends
My warm af­fec­tion know,
And love from each my path at­tends,
And can I from them go?
The thoughts of days that now are past,
No pen or tongue can tell;
Though to my heart they cling so fast,
Yet I must say, Fare­well!

No sighs of grief my bo­som heave,
No tears of ang­uish roll:
My friends, my all, I glad­ly leave,
For Je­sus cheers my soul.
Ye winds, then waft me far away,
The tale of love to tell;
To coun­try, home, and friends I say,
Farewell, O! yes, fare­well!