“Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light What so proudly we hailed as the twilight's last gleaming? Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight O'er the ramplarts 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. Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?” DoeStillsHomeLightLastsNightFightingStarsAirLandRedBraveWaveProofDawnBombsBroadsFlagsTwilightRocketsBannerBurstingStripesStreamingGlareLand Of The FreeBright Star Author:Francis Scott Key
“When the warrior returns, from the battle afar,To the home and the country he nobly defended,O! warm be the welcome to gladden his ear,And loud be the joy that his perils are ended:In the full tide of song let his fame roll along,To the feast-flowing board let us gratefully throng,Where, mixed with the olive, the laurel shall wave,And form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.” CountryHomeFormJoySongReturnBattleFameEarsBraveWaveWarmWelcomeWarriorLoudBoardsTidesPerilBrowsAfarOlivesLaurelsWreaths Book:Poems of the late Francis S. Key, esq Source: Poems of the late Francis S. Key, esq
“Oxus, forgetting the bright speed he had In his high mountain cradle in Pamere, A foiled circuitous wanderertill at last The longed-for dash of waves is heard, and wide His luminous home of waters opens, bright And tranquil, from whose floor the new-bathed stars Emerge, and shine upon the Aral Sea.” HomeLastsStarsWaterForgetHeardSeaMountainShiningWaveWideSpeedCradleLuminousTranquil Author:Matthew Arnold
“Unwind my riddle.Cruel as hawks the hours fly;Wounded men seldom come home to die;The hard waves see an arm flung high;Scorn hits strong because of a lie;Yet there exists a mystic tie.Unwind my riddle.” MenHardHomeLyingDiesStrongHoursArmsWaveTiesComing HomeWoundedScornMysticRiddleHawksUnwind Book:Wounds in the Rain Source: Wounds in the Rain
“The future is a fog that is still hanging out over the sea, a boat that floats home or does not. The trade winds blow me, and I do not know where the land is; the waves fold over each other; they are in love with themselves; sleeping in their own skin; and I float over them and I do not know about tomorrow.” KnowsDoeStillsHomeSleepSeaLandWindTomorrowFutureSkinsTradeWaveBlowBoatHanging OutFogFloatsFoldsSleeping In Book:Anne Sexton: A Self-portrait in Letters Source: Anne Sexton: A Self-portrait in Letters