  By JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. U Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn,The cluster’d spires of Frederick stand Green-wall’d by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, Apple- and peach-trees fruited deep. Fair as the garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famish’d rebel horde, On that pleasant morn of the early fall, When Lee march’d 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, Flapp’d in the morning wind: the sun Of noon look’d down, and saw not one. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bow’d with her fourscore years and ten; Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men haul’d 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 slouch’d 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 shiver’d the window, pane and sash; It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quick, as it fell from the broken staff, Dame Barbara snatch’d the silken scarf. She lean’d 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 stirr’d 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! Banner Banner
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