Maryland, My Maryland

(Written by an unknown Federal soldier after the battle of Antietam, and sung to the tune "Maryland, my Maryland") Illustrated by Harry Dierken

My Maryland, my Maryland, I bring thee presents fine;
a dazzling sword with jewelled hilt, a flask of bourbon wine.
I bring thee sheets of ghostly white to dress thy bridal bed;
with curtains of the purple eve and garlands of gory red.

My Maryland, my Maryland, sweet land upon the shore;
bring out thy stalwart yeomanry, make clean the threshing floor.
My ready wains lie stretching far across the fertile plain;
and I among the reaper stand to gather in the grain.

My Maryland, my Maryland, I feel the leaden rain;
I see the winged messenger come hurling to my brain.
I feather with thy golden hair - 'tis feathered not in vain;
I spurn the hand that loosed the shaft and curse thee in my pain.

My Maryland, my Maryland, alas!, the ruthless day;
that sees my gallant buttoned wools ride galloping away.
And ruthless for my chivalry, proud gentlemen with spurs;
whose bones lie stark upon the hill and stark among the firs.

(wain: an open farm wagon)