Barbara Fritchie

Barbara Fritchie. by John Greenleaf Whittier. , Up from the meadows rich with corn, , Clear in the cool September morn,, The clustered spires or Frederick stand , Greenwalled by the hills of Maryland, Round about them orchards sweep, , Apple and peach tree fruited deep., Fair as the 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 Fritchie then, , Bowed with their 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 heair of yon gray head , Dies like a dog! March on!" he said., All day long through Frederick's 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 Fritchie'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 Stonewalls' bier., Over Barbara Fritchie'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!