O say can you see by the dawn's early light, What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming; Gave proof thro' the night that our flag was still there! 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, 'Tis the star spangled banner! oh! long may it wave 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. From the terror of flight or the gloom of the grave. 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; And this be our motto "In God is our trust," Chorus And the star spangled banner in triumph shall wave My country! 'tis of thee, Of thee I sing: Land where my fathers died! My native country thee, I love thy rocks and rills, AMERICA Let music swell the breeze, Our fathers' God! to thee, To Thee we sing: Long may our land be bright Great God, our King! NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM. By the Rev. D. A. Perrin, M. A. Tune America. Let all triumphant sing, For our dear land; Let freedom's cause be known Unfuri our starry flag Sign of our destiny, Symbol of Unity, For Evermore. May all join for progress From evil cease. Our Father and our God, God bless our President, 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 O Lord, our God, arise And make them fall; Thy choicest gifts in store, 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 In trumpet tones the joyful sound Within this holy, sacred shrine, Upon the altar of His grace, Make pure all them who run the race, Here may all weary ones find rest, The troubled souls release; While leaning on their Savior's breast May ev'ry heart find peace. |