Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/175

 Vibrating to each sturdy tone,
 * My soul remembers well

The mild Madonna’s statue-stone
 * Within its ivory cell;

The ritual read, the chanting done—
 * The belfry music roll’d,

And all my faith, like Whittington,
 * Was in the tales it told!

And, oh! I feel as men must feel
 * Who have not wept for years;

Upon my cheek behold the seal
 * Of consecrated tears.

A mighty Sabbath calm is mine
 * That baffles human lore,

A resurrection of Lang Syne
 * A guiltless child once more.

And mother’s school-boy with his mimes,
 * This beamy Sunday morn,

Forgets the grim, tumultuous times
 * That hardened him in scorn.

Forgets terrific ocean days
 * Beyond the tropic gates,

Where the Magellan clouds down-gaze
 * On Patagonian Straits.