I love the high stars of the West,
I love the Northern Sugar Cane,
I love the harbours of the East,
I love the high hills of the South.

No matter if I never see,
The new Belize that lies ahead,
I know it is my native land,
And I must love it evermore.

The men who labour by the sea,
The farmers who awake and work;
The Premier and his Ministers,
Are all Belizeans like me.

We lift our eyes to see the flag,
That flies above the native land;
We love our country and our God,
Who makes it strong and rare and free.