I love the mountains wreathed in mist, The twilight skies of amethyst, The groves of ancient oaks sun-kissed, In Old Virginia. I love the gorgeous trumpet flowers, Wild rose and honeysuckle flowers, The woodland incense after showers, In Old Virginia. I love the laughter of the rills, Cloud shadows stretched athwart the hills, The jocund sound of him who tills, In Old Virginia. I love the martial ranks of corn, Their blades agleam with lights of morn, The curtains of the night withdrawn, In Old Virginia. I love the Ocean's deep toned roar, Surf-lashed to foam on wind-swept shore, The spray-born rainbow arching o'er, In Old Virginia. I love the modest maidenhood, The deference paid to womanhood, The chivalric and gentle blood, In Old Virginia. I love the love of native sod, The simple faith that trusts in God, The heads bowed neath the chastening rod, In Old Virginia.
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