My Land Poem by Patience Worth
My Land
The pith o' my heart be strong
Out of the root from which it sprung,
Yea, and sweet with the perfumes,
The holy perfumes of that most valorous past.
What need I sing? What need I prate?
What need I pledge? What need I troth?
England be the stem 'pon which I bloomed!
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2/24/2026 6:51:42 AM # 1.0.0
