Dr Kirk Christie
Andros, My Andros
Oh Andros, My Andros, I love only thee,
Thy pines savour my nostrils rich and free,
Thy magical spirits that haunt my breast,
Embalm my yearning soul with peace and rest.
I yearn to be with thee sweet land of repose,
Thy shadowy forests and enchanting Blue Holes,
Come to me gently, sweet Lady of Grace,
Endow me with the love of thy mystical face.
Fair lady of light, I give thee my heart,
I exalt thee forever and will never depart,
Thy zephyrs are soothing, caressing my would,
Eternal my love for thee, yet to unfold.
Sweet giant lady that slumbers in the West,
Thy Grace and beauty, I will forever attest,
Thy pining and groaning forever in my ear,
To hold and caress thee evokes another tear.
Move Up Bahamaland
Spread your mighty wings Bahamaland,
Ascend to loftier heights,
Like the golden eagle Bahamaland,
Spread your mighty wings and fly.
Move to the mountain-top Bahamaland,
With muscles strong and firm,
Like Olympian champions of ancient Greece,
Stand steadfast and firm.
Move up to the mountain-top Bahamaland,
With a faith of granite steel,
Like a towering mountain embrace the sky,
Stand forever tall and firm.
God’s strength be thine Bahamaland,
To hold thee safe and sure,
And when thy night is dark and dim,
May God protect thee more.
Excel to the mountain-top Bahamaland,
For ‘tis there where you belong,
God’s Grace and Power will bear thee up,
Move up Bahamaland, up where you belong.