Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/56

Rh Between their pious thought and God
 * Stood files of men with brutal steel;

The garlands placed on "Rebel sod” Were trampled in the common clod,
 * To die beneath the hireling heel.
 * Facing this triumph of the Hun,

Our Smoky Casar gave no nod,
 * To keep the peace at Arlington.

Jehovah judged—abashing man—
 * For in the vigils of the night,

His mighty storm-avengers ran Together in one choral clan,
 * Rebuking wrong, rewarding right;
 * Plucking the wreaths from those who won,
 * The tempest heaped them dewy-bright
 * On graves at Arlington.

And when the morn came young and fair,
 * Brimful of blushes ripe and red,

Knee-deep in sky-sent roses there, Nature began her earliest prayer
 * Above triumphant Southern dead.
 * So, in the dark and in the sun,
 * Our Cause survives the Tyrant's tread,
 * And sleeps to wake at Arlington.

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