Thou wilt not cower in the dust, Maryland! Thy beaming sword shall never rust, Maryland! Remember Carroll’s sacred trust, Remember Howard’s warlike thrust, And all thy slumberers with the just, Maryland, my Maryland! Come! ’tis the red dawn of the day, Maryland! Come with thy panoplied array, Maryland! With Ringgold’s spirit for the fray, With Watson’s blood at Monterey, With fearless Lowe and dashing May, Maryland, my Maryland! Dear Mother, burst the tyrant’s chain, Maryland! Virginia should not call in vain, Maryland! She meets her sisters on the plain,-- “_Sic semper!_” ’tis the proud refrain That baffles minions back amain, Maryland! Arise in majesty again, Maryland, my Maryland! Come! for thy shield is bright and strong, Maryland! Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong, Maryland! 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’s 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! MAGDALEN BY JAMES RYDER RANDALL The Hebrew girl, with flaming brow, The banner-blush of shame, Sinks at the sinless Saviour’s Knees And dares to breathe His name. From the full fountain of her eyes The lava-globes are roll’d-- They wash His feet; she spurns them off With her ringlet-scarf of gold. The Meek One feels the eloquence Of agonizing prayer, The burning tears, the suppliant face, The penitential hair; And when, to crown her brimming woe, The ointment box is riven-- “Rise, daughter, rise! Much hast thou loved, Be all thy sins forgiven!” Dear God! The prayer of good and pure, The canticles of light, Enrobe Thy throne with gorgeous skies, As incense in Thy sight; May the shivered vase of Magdalen Soothe many an outcast’s smart, Teaching what fragrant pleas may spring From out a _broken heart_! WHY THE ROBIN’S BREAST WAS RED BY JAMES RYDER RANDALL