Poems Every Child Should Know

<h3><SPAN name="Barbara_Frietchie" id="Barbara_Frietchie"></SPAN>Barbara Frietchie</h3> <div class="pre_poem"><p>"Barbara Frietchie" will be beloved of all times because she was an old woman (not necessarily an old lady) <i>worthy of her years</i>. Old age is honourable if it carries a head that has a halo. (1807-92.)</p> </div> <table class="poem" summary="poem"><tr><td><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up from the meadows rich with corn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Clear in the cool September morn,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The clustered spires of Frederick stand<br/></span> <span class="i0">Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Roundabout them orchards sweep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Apple and peach tree fruited deep,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Fair as the garden of the Lord<br/></span> <span class="i0">To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">On that pleasant morn of the early fall<br/></span> <span class="i0">When Lee marched over the mountain-wall,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Over the mountains winding down,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Horse and foot, into Frederick town.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Forty flags with their silver stars,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Forty flags with their crimson bars,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Flapped in the morning wind: the sun<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of noon looked down, and saw not one.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Bowed with her fourscore years and ten,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Bravest of all in Frederick town,<br/></span> <span class="i0">She took up the flag the men hauled down.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">In her attic window the staff she set,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To show that one heart was loyal yet.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up the street came the rebel tread,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Under his slouched hat left and right<br/></span> <span class="i0">He glanced: the old flag met his sight.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"Halt!"&mdash;the dust-brown ranks stood fast.<br/></span> <span class="i0">"Fire!"&mdash;out blazed the rifle-blast.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It shivered the window, pane and sash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">It rent the banner with seam and gash.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff<br/></span> <span class="i0">Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">She leaned far out on the window-sill,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And shook it forth with a royal will.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But spare your country's flag," she said.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Over the face of the leader came;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The nobler nature within him stirred<br/></span> <span class="i0">To life at that woman's deed and word:<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">"Who touches a hair of yon gray head<br/></span> <span class="i0">Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All day long through Frederick street<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sounded the tread of marching feet:<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All day long that free flag tost<br/></span> <span class="i0">Over the heads of the rebel host.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Even its torn folds rose and fell<br/></span> <span class="i0">On the loyal winds that loved it well;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And through the hill-gaps sunset light<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shone over it with a warm good-night.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the rebel rides on his raids no more.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Honour to her! and let a tear<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Over Barbara Frietchie's grave,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Peace and order and beauty draw<br/></span> <span class="i0">Round thy symbol of light and law;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And ever the stars above look down<br/></span> <span class="i0">On thy stars below in Frederick town!<br/></span></div> </td></tr></table> <p class="quotsig"><span class="smcap">John G. Whittier.</span></p> <div class="chapter"><SPAN name="PART_III" id="PART_III"></SPAN> <h2>PART III.<br/><br/> <small>The Day's at the Morn</small></h2> <ANTIMG class="plain" src="images/part3.png" alt="A boy with a fishing rod" title="A boy with a fishing rod" height-obs="257" width-obs="200" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />