Maryland, my Maryland, and other poems/Refuge of Sinners
“REFUGE OF SINNERS”
Though loathsome sin, usurping grace,
Should make my soul its dwelling place;
Though Satan, with his host of flame,
Combined to crush my spirit’s fame;
I’d look to heav’n—avaunt despair!
Because I have a Mother there.
Though man should couch foul slander’s dart
To pierce with death my wounded heart;
Though trusted friends, nay, all that’s dear
Should flee my sight—without a tear,
I’d waft on high an earnest prayer,
Because I have a Mother there.
Though the poor beggar’s staff be mine,
And all despise, I’ll not repine;
Though hunger writes upon my cheek
Its fatal mark, in Winter’s bleak;
For heaven’s sake all this I’ll bear,
Because I have a Mother there.
Though God should call to Him above,
Snatching away mine early love;
An earthly mother wrap away
From hence to realms of endless day;
I would not bid our dear Lord spare,
Because I’d have two Mothers there.
When I am with the countless dead,
When wild weeds riot o’er my head,
One boon I ask, one favor crave:
Let one true mourner guard my grave,
And let my soul seek regions fair,
Because it has a Mother there.