My hope is lighted when I behold
the cliffs of Ducor,
For standing loftily over the Atlantic’s roar
it gives me vigor
And makes my patriotism even bold.
My hope is lighted when I behold
The Nimba Mountains,
For in Nimba are treasures untold,
Aye! But the mien they are drained
Interrupts this hope I behold.
My hope is lighted when I behold
the Liberian green forest
Where the pigmy hippo and the Black Mamba make their abode,
and the Gola Malimba weaves her nest
Like in the blessed paradise of old.
My hope is lighted when I behold
the Lofa River
For from its banks come pure gold
as it meanders
Down to the Atlantic’s shore.
My hope is lighted when I behold
my country in renewed peace.
For again the Lone Star can shine bright and bold
Amidst her colleagues
Towards a future my hope did behold.
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