O 	can you see 	the dawn's
	proud
	stripes—		bright

	rockets, bombs—
	proof				that

	the land of the free


	dimly seen through 	mist
where		haughty			repose,
that			towering steep,
	half conceals, half discloses


	glory reflected?
	O! long may it wave


	where
havoc		and	battle
	leave us no more.
	Blood
could save the	slave
from	terror,			 	the grave,
	the star-spangled banner in
	the home of the


	freemen
between their	home and
	Heav'n .
Praise the Power,
then conquer.			It is just.
	Our motto:  God
									shall wave
O'er		the free.