See how the starry banner floats, And sparkles in the morning ray: While sweetly swell the fife's gay notes In echoes o'er the gleaming bay: Flash follows flash, as through yon fleet Columbia's cannons loudly roar, And valiant tars the battle greet, That storms on Erie's echoing shore. O, who can tell what deeds were done, When Britain's cross, on yonder wave, Sunk 'neath Columbia's dazzling sun, And met in Erie's flood its grave? Who tell the triumphs of that day, When, smiling at the cannon's roar, Our hero, 'mid the bloody fray, Conquered on Erie's echoing shore. Though many a wounded bosom bleeds For sire, for son, for lover dear, Yet Sorrow smiles amid her weeds,-- Affliction dries her tender tear; Oh! she exclaims, with glowing pride, With ardent thoughts that wildly soar, My sire, my son, my lover died, Conquering on Erie's bloody shore. Long shall my country bless that day, When soared our Eagle to the skies; Long, long in triumph's bright array, That victory shall proudly rise: And when our country's lights are gone, And all its proudest days are o'er, How will her fading courage dawn, To think on Erie's bloody shore! THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER FRANCIS SCOTT KEY [Sidenote: Sept. 14, 1813] _After the British had burned the Capitol at Washington, in August, 1813, they retired to their ships, and on September 12th and 13th, they made an attack on Baltimore. This poem was written on the morning after the bombardment of Fort McHenry, while the author was a prisoner on the British fleet._ Oh! say can you see, by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming; Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming? And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air, Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there; Oh, say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave? On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, Where the 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; Its full glory reflected now shines on 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 the band who so vauntingly swore, 'Mid the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, A home and a country they'd leave us no more? Their blood hath washed out their foul footsteps' pollution; 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!