Labor Day in All It's Glory

Images: Flag waiving in the spring. Sunset over summer crops and trees. Winter around the old apple tree. Sun setting on the autumn crops.

"My country, 'tis of thee,

Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing: Land where my fathers died,

Land of the pilgrims' pride,

From ev'ry mountainside

Let freedom ring!

My native country thee

Land of the noble free,

Thy name I love: I love they rocks and rills,

They woods and templed hills;

My heart with rapture thrills

Like that above.

Let music swell the breeze,

And ring from all the trees

Sweet freedom's song: Let mortal tongues awake;

Let all that breathe partake;

Let rocks their silence break

The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God, to thee,

Author of liberty,

To thee we sing: Long may our land be bright

With freedom's holy light;

Protect us by thy light,

Great God, our King!"

"My Country, 'Tis of Thee" 1831 - Samuel F. Smith