Refreshed in wonted might
By the passing hours of night,
Maryland from sleep awaketh,
To hail the morn that breaketh
Heart-thanks to him above,
The God of truth and love.
On bended knees she giveth,
That for hers still she liveth
Herself in steel arraying,
Her beauteous front displaying,
Absent ones advance to meet her;
Gladly Southern Sisters greet her,
Thanking God the hour has come,
When, at the roll-call of her drum,
Her true sons, as best behoveth,
To the battle front she moveth.
Striking down each vile oppressor
And the tyrants who distress her,
They shall win and share the glory
Of their sires renown’d in story.
Her soil from base pollution free,
Her banner crown’d with victory,
Avenged her slain, nobly shall she bear
Herself, and her triumphs meekly wear.
The chivalry of her sons, in ev’ry age,
Shall brighten the historic page;
Whilst woman’s holy love, in prayers
To heaven ascending, shall be theirs.
Nor shall those prayers be heard in vain;
For Heaven will on them blessings rain.
The nations, too, with loud acclaim,
Shall glorify their deeds and name.
Aye! proudly with the Confed’rate band,
“My Maryland,” shalt thou take thy stand;
Nor know again oppression’s might,
Nor feel that tyrant power be right.
With Peace and Plenty, be each virtue thine
Adored by Freedom, bless’d of God Divine.