Maryland's Lament for Jackson

Maryland’s Lament for Jackson.

Gone from us—gone from us!
Hero and friend;
Who will now win for us?
Who will defend?
Who! Who—we keep pleading—
Liberty’s God!
Who will now lead us from
From under thy rod?

His strong heart Thou’st folded
Into thy rest;
With his battle scar’d hands,
Linked on thy breast.
His tones that in charging,
Cheered on his band;
With ecstacy thrilleth,
Under thy hand.

Like a wild harp singing,
To sea and air;
High over the Angels,
Ringeth it there.
While Maryland weeping,
Watcheth his tomb;
Her wild anguish sobbing,
Low in the gloom.

Not all the world grieving,
Equellath hers;
So long hath she waited,
Pouring her tears:
Her white forehead blushing,
Crimson with shame,
At vile slander heaping,
Stains on her name.

O! Hath she not given,
Her good and strong,
’ Neath witnessing Heaven,
To hurl back wrong?
O, hath she not sent them,
With Spartan pride,
And bidden them die, but on
Victory’s side?

Aye! Seen their bones bleaching,
Down by the sea;
While hearing the taunting
Gibes of the free.
Thorn-crown’d and crucified,
Lo! where she stands,
In wild supplication,
Stretching her hands!

God of the battle-field!
Tender in care;
Poor fettered Maryland,
Sobbeth her prayer.
Wield thou the sabre-stroke,
Jackson let fall;
And into the strong arm,
Gather us all!

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