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To Anacreon in Heav'n,
Where he sat in full glee,
A few Sons of Harmony
Sent a petition
That he their Inspirer
And Patron would be;
When this answer arrived
From the Jolly Old Grecian:
"Voice, Fiddle, and Flute,
No longer be mute,
I'll lend you my name
And inspire you to boot,
And besides I'll instruct you,
Like me, to intwine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus's Vine."
* * *
Ye Sons of Anacreon,
Then join hand in hand;
Preserve Unanimity,
Friendship, and Love!
'Tis yours to support
What's so happily plann'd;
You've the sanction of Gods,
And the Fiat of Jove.
While thus we agree,
Our toast let it be:
"May our Club flourish Happy,
United, and Free!
And long may the Sons
Of Anacreon intwine
The Myrtle of Venus
With Bacchus's Vine."
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Oh, say, can you see,
By the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hail'd at
The twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars,
Thro' the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watch'd,
Were so gallantly streaming?
And the rockets' red glare,
The bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof thro' 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?
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