“The Sweet South”
William Gilmore Simms
O the sweet South! the sunny, sunny South!
Land of true feeling, land forever mine!
I drink the kisses of her rosy mouth,
And my heart swells as with a draught of wine;
She brings me blessings of maternal love;
I have her smile which hallows all my toil;
Her voice persuades, her generous smiles approve,
She sings me from the sky and from the soil!
O, by her lonely pines that wave and sigh!
O, by her myriad flowers, that bloom and fade,
By all the thousand beauties of her sky,
And the sweet solace of her forest shade,
She's mine—she's ever mine—
Nor will I aught resign
Of what she gives me, mortal or divine;
Will sooner part
With life, hope, heart,—
Will die—before I fly!
O, love is hers,—such as ever glows
In souls where leap affection's living tide;
She is all fondness to her friends; to foes
She glows a thing of passion, strength, and pride;
She feels no tremors when the danger's high,
But the fight over and the victory won,
How with strange fondness, turns her loving eye
In tearful welcome on each gallant son!
O! by her virtues of the cherished past,—
By all her hopes of what the future brings,—
I glory that my lot with her is cast,
And my soul flushes and exulting sings;
She's mine—she's ever mine—
For her will I resign
All precious things—all placed upon her shrine;
Will freely part
With life, hope, heart—
Will die—do aught but fly!