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 on 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
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has wiped out their foul footstep's 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.

         Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory 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 trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Our Poem Provides Our Inspiration

         Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things

         You have not dreamed of –
wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence.
Hov'ring there,

         I've chased the shouting wind along,
and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

         Where never lark, or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high un-trespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God."

(Poem by John Gillespie Magee, Jr. He was an American joining the Canadians during WWII before we entered the war and was killed shortly after writing this poem in a mid-air collision.)

Our Mission is Our USMA Plebe Bible

         To develop the powers of analysis so that the mind may reason to a logical conclusion.
To instill discipline and a high sense of honor.

         To instruct and train the Corps of Cadets so that each graduate shall have the qualities and attributes essential to his progressive and continued development throughout a lifetime career as an officer in the regular army.