Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/42

  Brothers! The midnight of our Cause
 * Is shrouded in our fate—

The demon Goths pollute our halls
 * With fire and lust and hate!

Be strong, be valiant, be assured—
 * Strike home for Heaven and Right!

The soul of Jackson stalks abroad
 * And guards the camp tonight.

You shudder as you think upon
 * The carnage of the grim report,

The desolation when we won
 * The inner trenches of the fort.

But there are deeds you may not know
 * That scourge the pulses into strife;

Dark memories of deathless woe
 * Pointing the bayonet and knife.