My country, ‘tis of thee,
for amber waves of grain
Oh, say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light
I’m proud to be an American
Give me your poor, your tired,
sweet land of Liberty,
for purple mountain majesties
land that I love
what so proudly we hailed at the twilight’s last gleaming
Where at least I know I’m free
of thee I sing
above the fruited plain.
Stand beside her
whose broad stripes and bright stars
and I won’t forget the men who died
your huddled masses yearning to breathe free
Land where my fathers died,
and guide her
through the perilous fight
who gave that right to me
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore
Land of the pilgrims’ pride,
God shed His grace on thee.
Through the night with the light from above.
O’er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming
and I gladly stand up next to you
send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed, to me
from ev’ry mountainside
to the prairies
and the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air
and defend her still today
let Freedom ring
from sea to shining sea.
My home sweet home
gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!