O Kansas, 'tis of thee,
Sunflower State so free,
I sing in praise;
State where brave soldiers fought,
State where homesteaders wrought,
For all thy domain sought,
In freedoms ways
O native chosen State,
Home of the highest rate,
Thy name I praise;
Thy hills and prairies wide,
Thy streams and grain beside,
Thy grace by none denied,
In all thy days.
I praise Thy martyr's trails,
Where still speak death-less tales,
Of tragic days;
Padilla's service glows;
Scouts vanquish Roman Nose,
Pike hoists the flag that rose,
To wave always.
Thy Day in 'Sixty-One,
Crowned noble ambition,
With deserved praise;
Thy claims were justly due,
Brave sons and daughters true,
Thirty-fourth in Field of Blue,
Kansas always.
Thy goal is starward still,
Upward through any ill,
Standing the test;
Thy faith when storms smite thee,
Or when wrongs dare to be,
Aimed at thy loved country,
To fight thy best.
Thy plow wins victory,
Creating rights for thee,
In the world's grace;
Thou dost thy rulers name,
Honoring labor's claim,
In every worthy aim,
That merits place.
Thy God is no mere creed,
Under no fakir's lead,
Or bigot's breed;
Thy civil liberty,
Maintained by equity,
Godlike in sympathy,
To keep thee freed.
Thy colors to the world,
For equal rights unfurled,
Never shall cease;
May thy great past show thee,
Thy best days yet to be,
Kansas and Liberty,
Peace, lasting peace.