Page:Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems - Randall - 1908.pdf/85

  :::Dusky plume and siroc frown,
 * Lo the night comes trampling down
 * O’er thy palaces and town!
 * Lo! a legion like the stars,
 * Speeding from their crystal cars,
 * Leap beyond the sable bars;
 * How they glittered as they roll’d!
 * How thy streets are stormed with gold!

Undine! Undine! thou art princess of the parables of old!

’Twas in the old church yard I told you all,
 * Beneath the Norway pine;

There, by your mother’s grave, I thought to call
 * That poor lost mother mine.

I saw you bend above an orphan child
 * To kiss its winsome face;

This woman, quoth I, is all undefiled,
 * A miracle of grace.