Page:Southern Life in Southern Literature.djvu/260

242 Come to thine own heroic throng Stalking with Liberty along, And chant thy dauntless slogan-song,
 * Maryland, my Maryland!

I see the blush upon thy cheek,
 * Maryland!

For thou wast ever bravely meek,
 * Maryland!

But lo! there surges forth a shriek, From hill to hill, from creek to creek, Potomac calls to Chesapeake,
 * Maryland, my Maryland!

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll,
 * Maryland!

Thou wilt not crook to his control,
 * Maryland!

Better the fire upon thee roll, Better the shot, the blade, the bowl, Than crucifixion of the soul,
 * Maryland, my Maryland!

I hear the distant thunder hum,
 * Maryland!

The Old Line bugle, fife, and drum,
 * Maryland!

She is not dead, nor deaf, nor dumb; Huzza! she spurns the Northern scum! She breathes! She burns! She'll come! She'll come!
 * Maryland, my Maryland!