O! 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;
    O! say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
    O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?

    On that 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, now conceals, now discloses? 
    Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
    In full glory reflected now shines on the stream;
   ’Tis the star-spangled banner; O 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 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 homes and the war’s desolation! 
    Blest with victory and peace, may the heav’n-rescued land
      Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation. 
    Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just,
    And this be our motto—­“In God is our trust”: 
    And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
    O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave.

FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.

 FATHER WILLIAM.

“Father William” a parody by Lewis Carroll (1833-), is even more clever than the original.  Harmless fun brightens the world.  It takes a real genius to create wit that carries no sting.

   “You are old, Father William,” the young man said,
     “And your hair has become very white;
    And yet you incessantly stand on your head—­
      Do you think, at your age, it is right?”

   “In my youth,” Father William replied to his son,
     “I feared it might injure the brain;
    But now that I’m perfectly sure I have none,
      Why, I do it again and again.”

   “You are old,” said the youth, “as I mentioned before,
      And have grown most uncommonly fat;
    Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door—­
      Pray, what is the reason of that?”

   “In my youth,” said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,
     “I kept all my limbs very supple
    By the use of this ointment—­one shilling the box—­
      Allow me to sell you a couple.”