I would not even ask my heart to say If I could love some other land as well As thee, my country, had I felt the spell Of Italy at birth, or learned to obey The charm of France, or England's mighty sway. I would not be so much an infidel As once to dream, or fashion words to tell, What land could hold my love from thee away. For like a law of nature in my blood I feel thy sweet and secret sovereignty, And woven through my soul thy vital sign. My life is but a wave, and thou the flood; I am a leaf and thou the mother-tree; Nor should I be at all, were I not thine.