"License my roving hands, and let them go,
Behind, before, above, between, below.
O my America! my new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man man'd,
My mine of precious stones: my emperie,
How blest am I in this discovering thee!"
Okay, John Donne predates the actual United States of America--but, uh, that is what he's talking about, right?
From Elegy XX