Maryland My
Maryland
Written by
James Ryder Randall
The
despot's heel is on thy shore,
Maryland, My Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple door,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of
Baltimore,
And be the battle queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland!
Hark
to an exiled son's appeal,
Maryland, My Maryland!
My Mother State! to thee I
kneel,
Maryland, My Maryland!
For life and death, for woe and
weal,
Thy peerless chivalry reveal,
And gird they beauteous limbs
with steel,
Maryland! My Maryland!
Thou
wilt not cower in the dust,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Thy beaming sword shall never
rust,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Remember Carroll's sacred trust,
Remember Howard's warlike
thrust,-
And all they slumberers with the
just,
Maryland! My Maryland!
Come!
'tis the red dawn of the day,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come with thy panoplied array,
Maryland, My Maryland!
With Ringgold's spirit for the
fray,
With Watson's blood at Monterey,
With fearless Lowe and dashing
May,
Maryland! My Maryland!
Come!
for thy shield is bright and
strong,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come! for thy dalliance does
thee wrong,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Come! to thine own heroic
throng,
Stalking with Liberty along,
And cgive a new Key to thy song,
Maryland! My Maryland!
Dear
Mother! burst the tyrant's
chain,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Virginia should not call in
vain!
Maryland, My Maryland!
She meets her sisters on the
plain-
"Sic semper!" 'tis the proud
refrain
That baffles minions back amain,
Maryland! My Maryland!
I see
the blush upon thy cheek,
Maryland, My Maryland!
For thou wast ever bravely meek,
Maryland, My 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, My Maryland!
Thou wilt not crook to his
control,
Maryland, My Maryland!
Better the fire upon thee roll,
Better the blade, the shot, the
bowl,
Than crucifixion of the soul,
Maryland! My Maryland!
I
hear the distant thunder-hum,
Maryland, My Maryland!
The Old Line's bugle, fife, and
drum,
Maryland, My 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!
Source: Maryland State Archives