Down Trodden Maryland
Down Trodden Maryland. Third Edition Revised.
Down-trodden, despised see brave Maryland lie,
The noblest of all States;
Up and to ransom her let each one try,
To hasten the plans of the Fates.
Her land is of the greatest beauty
That e’er the eye gazed on;
Fearless she roused her to her duty,
Nor paused she ’till was done.
Her press is bound with iron chains,
For truth no loop-hole left,
In God her only hope remains,
Or she’s of all bereft!
She’s lost her bravest and her best,
Who battling’ mong the free,
Or else they in a dungeon rest.
Too proud to bend the knee.
From Her, her Old Line has departed
With leaders true and brave,
She’s been of all the truest-hearted
Why should she be a slave?
She’s waited long with murmurs deep,
Aye calling on ye oft,
Still traitors on her insults heap,
Still lies her hope aloft.
You* owe her now a mighty debt,
An awful debt and great;
She’s looking anxious for you yet,
Her righteous rage to sate.
You must not keep her waiting long
With wrongs that cry to heaven,
But come with your own mighty throng,
Let all her bonds be riven.
She’s borne their foul oppression
Yet has not recreant proved,
Though their myriads took possession
Of the land the Old Line loved;
She’s waited and is hoping still,
She would but cannot dare,
However much she have the will
To seize the despot’s lair.†
But yet she hopes for better things,
When God who all commands,
This wanton war to an end quick brings,
With peace to our southern lands.
And when the South is free once more,
’Twill be her proudest boast,
That forth the first her men did pour,
To curb the invading host.