Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/32

 On Sumter’s rampart, that sweet eve,
 * I heard the vesper bugle play

In chorus with the ocean’s heave,
 * All in the golden prime of May.

On either side, the level lands
 * Swam seaward gray and serpentine;

The billows burst in corsair bands
 * Against their shield of rock and pine.

Aloof, beyond the sullen bar
 * Crouching, the black armada rides—

Afront the vulture ships of war,
 * Brooded the giant Ironsides.

The fortress guns scowled from their lair
 * Along the sentry’s bristling beat;

While on the sultry wave, aglare,
 * Back frowned the gaunt and baffled fleet.