Помогите сочинить стих про родину

God bless our native land  Firm may she ever stand  Through storm and night  When the wild tempests rave  Ruler of wind and wave  Do Thou our country save  By Thy great might  For her our prayers shall rise  To God above the skies  On Him we wait  Thou who art ever night  Guarding with watchful eye  To Thee aloud we cry  God save the State  Not on this land alone,  but be God's mercies known  from shore to shore:  Lord, make the nations see  that men should brothers be,  and form one family  the wide world o'er.  2) Breathes there the man, with soul so dead,  Who never to himself hath said,  This is my own, my native land!  Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd,  As home his footsteps he hath turn'd  From wandering on a foreign strand!  If such there breathe, go, mark him well;  For him no Minstrel raptures swell;  High though his titles, proud his name,  Boundless his wealth as wish can claim;  Despite those titles, power, and pelf,  The wretch, concentred all in self,  Living, shall forfeit fair renown,  And, doubly dying, shall go down  To the vile dust, from whence he sprung,  Unwept, unhonour'd, and unsung.  3)My country! In thy days of glory past  A beauteous halo circled round thy brow  and worshipped as a deity thou wast—  Where is thy glory, where the reverence now?  Thy eagle pinion is chained down at last,  And grovelling in the lowly dust art thou,  Thy minstrel hath no wreath to weave for thee  Save the sad story of thy misery!  Well—let me dive into the depths of time  And bring from out the ages, that have rolled  A few small fragments of these wrecks sublime  Which human eye may never more behold  And let the guerdon of my labour be,  My fallen country! One kind wish for thee!