On the shore dimly seen, thro' the mists of the deep, where thee foe's haughty host, in dread silence reposes, what is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep, as it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? Now it catches the gleam, of the morning's first beam, in full glory reflected., now shines in the stream. "Tis the star-spangled banner; Oh, long may it wave, o'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave."

And where is that band, who so vauntingly swore, that the havoc of war, and the battle's confusion, a home and a country, should leave us no more? Their blood was washed out, their foul footstep's pollution, no refuge could save, the hireling and slave, from the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave, and thee star-spangled banner, in triumph doth wave, o'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.