Barbara Frietchie
by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807 � 1892) |
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Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool
September morn.
The clustered spires of Frederick
stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round
about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach tree fruited
deep,
Fair as a garden of the Lord
To the eyes of
the famished rebel horde,
On that pleasant morn of
the early fall,
When Lee marched over the
mountain-wall,--
Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.
Forty flags with
their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked
down, and saw not one.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie
then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Bravest of all in Frederick town,
She took up the flag
the men hauled down;
In her attic window the staff
she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Up
the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding
ahead.
Under his slouched hat left and right
He
glanced; the old flag met his sight.
"Halt!"--the
dust-brown ranks stood fast.
"Fire!"--out blazed the
rifle-blast.
It shivered the window, pane and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it
fell, from the broken staff
Dame Barbara snatched the
silken scarf;
She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.
"Shoot, if you
must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag,"
she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;
The nobler nature
within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word:
"Who touches a hair of yon gray head
Dies like a dog!
March on!" he said.
All day long through Frederick
street
Sounded the tread of marching feet:
All day
long that free flag tost
Over the heads of the rebel
host.
Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the
loyal winds that loved it well;
And through the
hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm
good-night.
Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,
And
the Rebel rides on his raids no more.
Honor to her!
and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.
Over Barbara Frietchie's grave,
Flag of Freedom and
Union, wave!
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round
thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above
look down
On thy stars below in Frederick town! |
By John Greenleaf Whittier (1807 � 1892)
Listed August 8, 2012 |
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