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From the Log Cabin to the Methodist Pulpit and the Professor's Chair. 1839-1921. D. A. Perrin.

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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 thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare, bombs bursting in air!

Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there!
Chorus-

O say, does the star spangled banner yet wave

O'er the land of the free, And the home of the brave.

On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists o'er the deep,
Where the foes haughty hosts in dread silence reposes
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream;
Chorus-

'Tis the star spangled banner! oh! long may it wave
O'er the land of the free, And the home of the brave.

And where is that band so vauntingly swore

That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion

A home and country should leave us no more?

Their blood was 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.
Chorus-

And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Oh, thus be it ever when freemen shall stand

Between their loved home and the war's desolation;
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n rescued land,
Praise the pow'r 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,"

Chorus

And the star spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free, And the home of the brave.

My country! 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,

Of thee I sing:

Land where my fathers died!
Land of the pilgrim's pride!
From ev'ry mountain side!
Let freedom ring!

My native country thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;

I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills:
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.

AMERICA

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from al the trees
Sweet freedom's song:
Let mortal tongue awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Our fathers' God! to thee,
Author of liberty

To Thee we sing:

Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,

Great God, our King!

NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM.

By the Rev. D. A. Perrin, M. A.

Tune America.

Let all triumphant sing,
And laud our glorious King,

For our dear land;

Let freedom's cause be known
To millions as their own,
In whose hearts joy is sowa,
Thrice loyal rand.

Unfuri our starry flag
O'er highest peak and crag
From shore to shore;

Sign of our destiny,
Emblem of purity,

Symbol of Unity,

For Evermore.

May all join for progress
In truth and righteousness,
For arts of peace;
Build for the good of all,
Monuments great and small,
Works noble, best and tall,

From evil cease.

Our Father and our God,
Before whom nations trod,
To thee we pray;
Bless this dear land of ours,
With thy peace and powers,
With every good that towers
In this our day.

God bless our President,
Congress and Cabinet,

With His wisdom;

Forth with our boys in blue, With valor them endue, Make us loyal and true

To the Union.

BRITON'S NATIONAL SONG

God Save The King

Words by Henry Carey. Music same as America.

God save our gracious King
Long live our noble King,
God save the King;
Send him victorious,
Happy and glorious,
Long to reign over us,
God save the King.

O Lord, our God, arise
Scatter his enemies

And make them fall;
Confound their politics
Frustrate their knavish tricks,
On him our hope we fix,
God save the King.

Thy choicest gifts in store,
On him be pleased to pour,
Long may he reign;
May he defend our laws,
And ever give us cause,
To sing with heart and voice,
God save the King.

DEDICATORY HYMN.

By Rev. D. A. Perrin, M. A., D. D., pastor at Garnett, Kansas, 1870.

Tune: Azmon.

(Methodist Hymnal No. )1

Composed by request for the dedication of the new Methodist Episcopal Church, November 10, 1912.

Praise be to Thee, O God of Host, For all Thy blesings giv'n; Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, For clouds of mercy riv'n,

Here let the gospel's grace abound
For ev'ry sinner free;

In trumpet tones the joyful sound
Proclaim the Master's here.

Within this holy, sacred shrine,
Th' anointing oil be giv'n,
To make our faces brightly shine
Like His who rose to Heav'n.

Upon the altar of His grace,
Descend the Holy fire;

Make pure all them who run the race,
In thought, love, and desire.

Here may all weary ones find rest, The troubled souls release; While leaning on their Savior's breast May ev'ry heart find peace.

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