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The Song of King Corn

by C. A. Murch

The dews of heaven,
The rains that fall,
The fatness of earth,
I claim them all.
O’er mountain and plain
My praises ring,
O’er ocean and land
I am King! I am King!

O’er the green hills
Flash my shining blades;
Past dancing rills,
Through sun-kissed glades
Spread my serried ranks
With a sweep and a swing,
Till the eye is aweary,
I am King! I am King!

Cities and states
Arise at my call.
Bright gold bursts out
Where my footsteps fall.
Where my russet plumes
In the breezes swing
The glad earth laughs,
For I am King! I’m King!

I girdle the earth
With shining bands,
The groaning trains
That sweep the sands,
And ships that brave
Old Ocean’s swing
Are mine, all mine—
I am King! I am King!

Would you dethrone me?
Not so, not so.
Still the golden tide
Shall swell and flow;
The earth yield riches,
The toilers sing,
In the golden land
Where Corn is King.

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