Nigeria Had I Own You

My dear fervent land of emulous miserere, Had I be your creator or swish despot care, Whose cloat can awe beyond exalted gild, Then you'll bloom than grass, and wet sild, River Benue, and Niger can faint thy yearning, Of your strange dreams, and emulous longing, You don't need exorcist, necromancy to weal, Who corollary your fate to end in infernal wail, That fine green fresh land would be ploughed, As done in America, and Thailand to end slog, Even now as then our heart were filled in ideas, Amidst all our elders that fate bring before us.