John Greenleaf Whittier.—1807-
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 tree fruited deep,—
Fair as a 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;