The Anglish Moot
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By Francis Scott Key

Source text can be found here.

The Star-Spangled Cumble

Lo say can you see by the dawn's early light

What so lonkly we gret at the twilight's last gleaming,

Whose broad rands and bright stars through the freachenful fight,

O'er the earthwalls we watched, were so unheanly streaming?

And the meedens' red glare, the boomers bursting 'gainst the heavens,

showed truly through the night that our Fane was still there,

Lo say does that Star-Spangled Godweb yet wave,

o'er the land of the free, and the home of the bold?

On the brim dimly seen through the mists of the deep,

Where the foe's overmoodly heap in dread stillness rest,

What is that which the wind, o'er the high-standing steep,

As it fitfully blows, half hides and half shows?

Now it shines back the gleam of the morning's first beam...

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