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 shall 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 foul 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,