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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 has washed out their foul footsteps' pol
lution. 5 No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave; And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
Oh, thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation ! Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heaven-rescued
land Praise the Pow'r that hath made and preserved us a
nation. Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto “In God is our trust": 15 And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.
THE AMERICAN FLAG (1819)
BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE °
She called her eagle-bearer down,
The harbingers of victory!
Flag of the seas! On ocean wave
Flag of the free heart's hope and home!
By angel hands to valor given;
And all thy hues were born in heaven.
That saw thy bannered blaze unfurled,
The guard and glory of the world.
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
Of thee I sing;
Let freedom ring.
By RALPH WALDO EMERSON ° By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.
The foe long since in silence slept;
Alike the conqueror silent sleeps;
And Time the ruined bridge has swept
Down the dark stream which seaward creeps.
On this green bank, by this soft stream,
We set to-day a votive stone;
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
To die, and leave their children free,
The shaft we raise to them and thee.
THE BATTLE-FIELD .(1837)
BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT°
ONCE this soft turf, this rivulet's sands,
Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,
Encountered in the battle-cloud.
Ah! never shall the land forget
How gushed the life-blood of her brave
Upon the soil they fought to save.
Alone the chirp of flitting bird,
And bell of wandering kine are heard.
The black-mouthed gun and staggering wain;
Oh, be it never heard again!