Star-lit skies above
Aspen covered hills
Country that I love.
Philmont, here's to thee
Scouting Paradise
Out in God's country - tonight
Wind in wisp'ring pines
Eagles soaring high
Purple mountains rise
Against an azure sky
Philmont, here's to thee
Scouting Paradise
Out in God's country - tonight
Day is done, gone the sun,
From the lake, from the hills,
From the sky;
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.
Fading light dims the sight.
And a star gems the sky
Gleaming bright,
From afar, drawing nigh.
Falls the night.
Thanks and praise,
For the days,
Neath the sun,
Neath the stars,
Neath the sky,
As we go,
This we know,
God is nigh.
The Hills of Osceola are calling me today,
"Come back along the Scouting Trail" their voices seem to say.
I dream of woodland valleys, and pathways that I knew,
And answer, "Osceola hills, I'm coming back to you".
The trees of Osceola lift up their branches high,
The leafy curtain that they spread is green against the sky.
And when the shades of evening have chased away the light,
The stars above come shining through, God's watchmen of the night.
The friends of Osceola have walked the trail with me,
And 'round the campfire we have met in joyous company.
O! friends of rain and sunshine, so loyal and so true,
Thank God for hills and trees and stars,- for Country, Home, and You!
Tell me why, the starlit sky,
Tell me why, the oak tree high,
Tell me why, the sunset hue,
Tell me, Osceola, why we all love you.
Because God made the starlit sky,
Because God made the oak tree high,
Because God made the sunset hue,
That's why, Osceola, why we all love you.
