Poems you ought to know . it catches the gleam of the mornings first beam,In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream;Tis the star spangled banner, O, long may it waveOer 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 battles 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 slaveFrom the terror of flight or the gloom of the the star spangled banner in triumph doth waveOer the land of the free and th
Poems you ought to know . it catches the gleam of the mornings first beam,In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream;Tis the star spangled banner, O, long may it waveOer 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 battles 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 slaveFrom the terror of flight or the gloom of the the star spangled banner in triumph doth waveOer the land of the free and the home of the brave! 120 01 thus be it ever when freemen shall stand Between their loved homes and the wars desolation;Blest with victry and peace, may the heavn-rescued land Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a conquer we must when our cause it is just,And this be our motto, In God is our the star spangled banner in triumph shall waveOer the land of the free and the home of the brave!. FROM IN MEMORIAM. BY ALFRED TENNYSON. O, yet we trust that somehow goodWill be the final goal of ill,To pangs of nature, sins of will, Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; That nothing walks with aimless feet;That not one life shall be cast as rubbish to the void, [When God hath made the pile complete; That not a worm is cloven in not a moth with vain desireIs shriveled in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves anothers gain. 121 So runs my dream: But what am I ? An infant crying in the night; An infant crying for the hght;And with no language but a cry. The wish that of the Hving wholeNo life may fail beyond the it not from what we have The likest God within the soul ? Are God and Nature then at strife,That Nature lends such evil dreamsSo careful of the type she seems. So careless of the single life; That I, considering everywhereHer secret meaning in her finding that of fifty seeds She often brings but one to bear
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