{"id":1718,"date":"2007-07-04T05:27:24","date_gmt":"2007-07-04T12:27:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.janice-campbell.com\/?p=39"},"modified":"2022-06-27T20:01:27","modified_gmt":"2022-06-27T20:01:27","slug":"barbara-frietchie-for-independence-day","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/doingwhatmatters.com\/barbara-frietchie-for-independence-day\/","title":{"rendered":"“Barbara Frietchie” for Independence Day"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"The<\/a>I’ve always loved this poem for its depiction of the courage of spunky\u00a0Barbara Frietchie.\u00a0It doesn’t take place during the American Revolution, but I felt that the sentiment was entirely appropriate for Independence Day. With its simple rhyme scheme and catchy story, it is suitable for copywork, memorization, and recitation.<\/p>\n

Barbara Frietchie<\/strong><\/h1>\n

by John Greenleaf Whittier (1807\u20131892)<\/em><\/p>\n

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
\nClear in the cool September morn,<\/p>\n

The clustered spires of Frederick stand
\nGreen-walled by the hills of Maryland.<\/p>\n

Round about them orchards sweep,
\nApple and peach tree fruited deep,<\/p>\n

Fair as a garden of the Lord
\nTo the eyes of the famished rebel horde,<\/p>\n

On that pleasant morn of the early fall
\nWhen Lee marched over the mountain wall,\u2014<\/p>\n

Over the mountains winding down,
\nHorse and foot, into Frederick town.<\/p>\n

Forty flags with their silver stars,
\nForty flags with their crimson bars,<\/p>\n

Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
\nOf noon looked down, and saw not one.<\/p>\n

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
\nBowed with her fourscore years and ten;<\/p>\n

Bravest of all in Frederick town,
\nShe took up the flag the men hauled down;<\/p>\n

In her attic-window the staff she set,
\nTo show that one heart was loyal yet.<\/p>\n

Up the street came the rebel tread,
\nStonewall Jackson riding ahead.<\/p>\n

Under his slouched hat left and right
\nHe glanced: the old flag met his sight.<\/p>\n

“Halt!”\u2014the dust-brown ranks stood fast,
\n“Fire!”\u2014\u20ac\u009dout blazed the rifle-blast.<\/p>\n

It shivered the window, pane and sash;
\nIt rent the banner with seam and gash.<\/p>\n

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff
\nDame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;<\/p>\n

She leaned far out on the window-sill,
\nAnd shook it forth with a royal will.<\/p>\n

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
\nBut spare your country’s flag,” she said.<\/p>\n

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
\nOver the face of the leader came;<\/p>\n

The nobler nature within him stirred
\nTo life at that woman’s deed and word:<\/p>\n

“Who touches a hair of yon gray head
\nDies like a dog! March on!” he said.<\/p>\n

All day long through Frederick street
\nSounded the tread of marching feet:<\/p>\n

All day long that free flag tost
\nOver the heads of the rebel host.<\/p>\n

Ever its torn folds rose and fell
\nOn the loyal winds that loved it well;<\/p>\n

And through the hill-gaps sunset light
\nShone over it with a warm good-night.<\/p>\n

Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er,
\nAnd the Rebel rides on his raids no more.<\/p>\n

Honor to her! and let a tear
\nFall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.<\/p>\n

Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave,
\nFlag of Freedom and Union, wave!<\/p>\n

Peace and order and beauty draw
\nRound thy symbol of light and law;<\/p>\n

And ever the stars above look down
\nOn thy stars below in Frederick town!<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Don’t miss this passionate recitation of “Barbara Frietchie” by Mabel, a lady who clearly loves this poem.<\/p>\n