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 Poems of Francis Scott Key

Author of “The Star Spangled Banner” (Excerpted from, The Christian Heritage of the 50 United States of America, copyright 2000 by Catherine Millard) 


On Reading Lines by Fawcett 
On Revisiting Scenes of Early Life

So sings the world’s fond slave! So flies the dream
Of life’s gay morn; so sinks the meteor ray
Of fancy into darkness; and no beam
Of purer light shines on the wanderer’s way.

So sings not he who soars on other wings
Than fancy lends him; whom a cheering faith
Warms and sustains, and whose freed spirit springs
To joys that bloom beyond the reach of death.

And thou would’st live again! Again dream o’er
The wild and feverish visions of thy youth
Again to wake in sorrow, and deplore
Thy wanderings from the peaceful paths of truth!

Yet yield not to despair! be born again,
And thou shalt live a life of joy and peace,
Shall die a death of triumph, and thy strain
Be changed to notes of rapture ne’er to cease.


“All Things Are Yours.”
I Corinthians 3:21

Behold the grant the King of kings
Hath to his subjects given:
“All things are yours,” it saith; all things
That are in earth and heaven.

The saints are yours, to guide you home,
And bless you with their prayers;
The world is yours, to overcome
Its pleasures and its cares;

And life is yours, to give it all
To works of faith and love;
And death is yours, a welcome call
To higher joys above;

All present things are yours; whate’er
God’s providence decreed.
Is from his treasures culled with care,
And sent to suit thy need;

And things to come are yours: and all
Shall ever ordered be,
To keep thee safe, whate’er befall,
And work for good to thee;

And Christ is yours – his sacrifice,
To speak your sins forgiven:
His righteousness the only price
That thou canst pay for heaven.

Thus God is yours – thus reconciled,
His love your bliss secures,
The Father looks upon the child
And saith, “All things are yours.”


Efficacy of Prayer

“When I called upon thee thou heardest me, and enduedst
my soul with much strength.” – Psalm ciii, 3

When troubles, wave on wave assailed,
And fear my soul appalled,
I knew the Lord would rescue me,
And for deliverance called.

Still onward, onward came the flood;
Again I sought the Lord,
And prayed that he the waves would still
By His resistless word.

But still they rushing came; again
Arose my earnest prayer,
And then I prayed for faith and strength
Whate’er He willed to bear.

Then His felt presence was my strength,
His outstretched arm was nigh;
My head He raised, my heart he cheered,
“Fear not,” He said, “ ‘tis I.”

Strong in that strength, I rose above
The tempest’s fierce alarms;
It drove me to a port of peace,
Within a Saviour’s arms.



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