There's Life in the Old Land Yet*
by James Ryder Randall
By blue Patapsco's billowy dash, The tyrant's war-shout comes, Along with the cymbal's fitful clash, And the growl of his sullen drums, We hear it!—we heed it, with vengeful thrills, And we shall not forgive or forget; There's faith in the streams, there's hope in the hills, There's life in the old land yet!
Minions! we sleep, but we are not dead; We are crushed—we are scourged—we are scarred— We crouch—'tis to welcome the triumph tread Of the peerless Beauregard. Then woe to your vile, polluting horde When the Southern braves are met, There's faith in the victor's stainless sword, There is life in the old land yet!
Bigots! ye quell not the valiant mind, With the clank of an iron chain, The spirit of freedom sings in the wind, O'er Merryman, Thomas, and Kane; And we, though we smite not, and are not thralls, We are piling a gory debt; While down by McHenry's dungeon-walls, There's life in the old land yet!
Our women have hung their harps away, And they scowl on your brutal bands. While the nimble poniard dares the day, In their dear defiant hands! They will strip their tresses to string our bows, Ere the Northern sun is set; There&apo;s faith in their unrelenting woes, There's life in the old land yet!
There's life, though it throbbeth in silent veins, 'Tis vocal without noise, It gushed o'er Manassas' solemn plains, From the blood of the Maryland Boys! That blood shall cry aloud, and rise With an everlasting threat— By the death of the brave, by the God in the skies, There's life in the old land yet!
*Not to be confused with the song by A. F. Gibson, and dedicated to Severn Teackle Wallis. This poem by Mr. Randall was set to music under the title, “We Sleep, but We are Not Dead.”
Matthew Page Andrews, M.A., Randall's literary executor, expands on the footnote in his 1910 collection, The Poems of James Ryder Randall ,:
Not to be confused with a song by Francis Key Howard under the same title; but as the latter was using the same title in quotation, it is presumably subsequent to Randall's poem, which was, however, set to music during the war under the title: We Sleep, But We Are Not Dead. Evidently Randall's poem was written in New Orleans in the early months of the conflict, as numerous references to individuals indicate, while Howard's poem appeared in July, 1863. Merryman, Thomas, and Kane were all arrested in 1861 and imprisoned in Fort McHenry. Kane was the marshal of police in Baltimore at the out- break of the war. Compare Whittier's lines — To Massachusetts:
The land is roused — its spirit Was sleeping, but not dead.
There's Life in the Old Land Yet, Maryland, My Maryland and Other Poems, by James Ryder Randall, 1908, Page 22. (PDF)