Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
America: Vols. XXV–XXIX. 1876–79.
Barbara Frietchie
By John Greenleaf Whittier (18071892)U
Clear in the cool September morn,
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Apple and peach tree fruited deep,
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,
When Lee marched over the mountain-wall,—
Horse and foot, into Frederick town.
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
She took up the flag the men hauled down;
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
He glanced: the old flag met his sight.
“Fire!”—out blazed the rifle-blast.
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.
And shook it forth with a royal will.
But spare your country’s flag,” she said.
Over the face of the leader came;
To life at that woman’s deed and word:
Dies like a dog! March on!” he said.
Sounded the tread of marching feet:
Over the heads of the rebel host.
On the loyal winds that loved it well;
Shone over it with a warm good-night.
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.
Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!
Round thy symbol of light and law;
On thy stars below in Frederick town!