Hail to the land whereon we tread,
Our fondest boast!
The sepulchres of mighty dead,
The truest hearts that ever bled,
Who sleep on glory's brightest bed,
A fearless host:
No slave is here:—our unchained feet,
Walk freely as the waves that beat
Our coast.

New England, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).