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MARYLAND
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Official Song of the State of Maryland
Maryland My Maryland Written by James Ryder Randall |
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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! |
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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! |
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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! |
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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! |
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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! |
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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! |
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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! |
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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! |
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