My Native Land

—By Swami Yogananda

The friendly sky,

Inviting shades of banyan tree,

The holy Ganges flowing by—

How can I forget thee!

I love the waving corn

Of India's fields so bright,

Oh, better than those Heav'nly grown

By deathless gods of might!

My soul's broad love so grand

Was born here first below—

In my own native land,

On India's sunny soil aglow.

I love thy breeze,

I love thy moon,

I love thy hills and seas,

In thee I wish to cease.

Thou taught'st me first

To love thy sky, the stars, the God above;

So my first homage meets,

Oh India, at thy feet!

From thee I now have learn'd to see,

To love all lands alike as thee;

I bow to thee, my native land,

The Mother of my love so grand.


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