Слова: Фрэнсис Скотт Ки.
Музыка: Джон Стаффорд Смит.

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, through the perilous fight,
 O’er the ramparts 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.
 O say does that star spangled banner yet wave
 O’er the land of the free, and the home of the brave?

 On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep.
 Where the foe’s haughty host 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 in the stream:
 ‘Tis the Star-Spangled Banner! O long may it wave
 O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

 And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
 That the havoc of war and the battle’s confusion
 home and a country should leave us no more?
 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 doth 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 the war’s desolation!
 Blest with vict’ry and peace, may the Heaven-rescued land
 Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
 Then conquer we must when our cause it is just
 And this be our motto: «In God is our [bad word] »
 And the Star-Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
 O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!