Heaven Must Be A Kentucky Kind Of

Let Peace, Descending From Her Native Heaven, Bid Her Olives Spring Amidst The Joyful Nations; And Plenty, In League With Commerce, Scatter Blessings From Her Copious Hand!

I'm Going Now. My Time Has Come.

Heaven Must Be A Kentucky Kind Of Place.

In This Situation I Was Constantly Exposed To Danger And Death.

In The Decline Of The Day, Near Kentucky River, As We Ascended The Brow Of A Small Hill, A Number Of Indians Rushed Out Of A Thick Cane-brake Upon Us, And Made Us Prisoners.