Vilma Young

New York, New York


I love your green hill sand sunny vales,
your flowering trees and sunny dales.
When wondering through a starry night the
firefly shines its dazzling light.

What mystery your cayes unfold
so many legends never stood,
of the baymen who bled and died
on sands of cayes for their pride.

Land of the free where none are slaves,
One people proud of their heritage,
black, white, Indian, Spanish people all
ready for their country's call.

This land of ours will always be
the home of people who are free,
and so we ask the Lord above,
O God protect this land we love.
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