Hushed in the alabaster arms of Death Our young Marcellus sleeps. - James Ryder Randall

The despot’s heel is on thy shore, Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple-door, Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That flecked the streets of Baltimore,
And be the battle-queen of yore, Maryland! My Maryland!

Gentlest and bravest in the battle-brunt, The Champion of the Truth;
He won his banner in the very front Of our immortal youth.

The South is blameless; for she holds in fee
The stainless swords of Washington and Lee.