1. Grace made this land a home, a country
Whose people you’d be fond to see

2. We've never known a place that equals it
Nor heard tell of its like, said he

3. It fronts the sea, in the rear a plain
Its walls are sea, in solid chains

4. The partridge's call in the trees is heard
The moan of the dove, the thrush's strains

5. No town e'er contained what it contained
Of Quraysh's beauty and lion's pride