“Tribute,” Ensign, July 1997, 44
Out of my people’s weeping,
Out of their desperate need,
Out of my people’s keeping
Faith with their Christlike creed,
Blossomed the barren desert,
Haven of peace and rest,
High in the mountain fastness,
Empire of the west.
Out of my people’s sorrow,
Out of their pain and grief,
Triumphs a bright tomorrow,
Born of their great belief.7