Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/60

 And then uprolled from the rafter’s mold,
 * Come the dear ones, the departed—

The fair and old ’neath the marigold,
 * The bold and the broken-hearted—

Till I shudder to think how we rabble on the brink
 * Of the early broken-hearted.

In mystic trance of my old Romance,
 * I let all my sorrow and sin go;

Forgetting the graves as they glance and dance
 * Down—down through the ghastly window—

With column and cross and banners of moss,
 * Down—down through the Oriel Window.

A purple band from the Phantom Land,
 * Come the idol-gods I cherished,

And lo! they stand by a throne of sand,
 * With palsied brows and perished—

And scoop from the shore of the sea no more
 * The shells of the Past and Perished.

But from those shells ring passion bells,
 * Till my soul from its sacred duty

Is ravished along with an earthly song,
 * But a song of love and beauty,

Till the air is aglow with lustrous hair
 * And dark-eyed songs of beauty.