My Country

My country ’tis of Thee, Who telleth the number of the stars.­­ And with Thy stripes we are healed. Absolved from all allegiance to sin, we, the pilgrims, seek a more perfect city. Declare independence: where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty, secured for ourselves and our posterity. O death, where is thy sting? Land for which my fathers died, of thee I sing, my hand over my heart.