“O say what is this thing call'd Light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy”

The Blind Boy (l. 1-2).

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Colley Cibber photo
Colley Cibber 26
British poet laureate 1671–1757

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What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
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And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
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As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
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In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
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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' 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.O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation.
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power 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."
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