In the East ye struggle for glory
And power, and wealth, and fame,
And time ye expend, and much labor,
To trace down your ancestors’ name;
But here in the land of Dakota
Where the winds sweep over the plains,
Is winnowed away much useless “chaff,”
And only true worth remains.
In the East ye crush out the life-blood
Of innocent children, grown old
By premature toiling and labor
To fill up your coffers with gold;
But here in the Land of Dakota
Our children are happy and free,
And over the plains of its limitless mains
Re-echo their laughter and glee.
In the East ye build up great mansions
And sky-scrapers gaunt and high,
That shut out the glory and grandeur
Of the infinite tender sky;
But here in the Land of Dakota
Our eyes look up on high
And our souls learn wonderful lessons
From the white clouds sailing by.