BARBARA FRIETCHIE. Up from the meadows rich with corn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand, Round about them orchards sweep, Fair as a garden of the Lord To the eyes of the famished Rebel horde. On that pleasant morn of the early fall When Lee marched 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, Flapped in the morning wind; the sun Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men hauled down. In her attic-window the staff she set, Up the street came the rebel tread, Under his slouched hat left and right "Halt!"-the dust-brown ranks stood fast; "Fire!"-out blazed the rifle blast. It shivered the window, pane and sash; Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf. She leaned far out on the window sill, "Shoot, if you must, this old gray head, But spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, The nobler nature within him stirred "Who touches a hair of yon gray head Dies like a dog! March on!" he said. All day long through Frederick street All day long that free flag tost Over the heads of the rebel host, Ever its torn folds rose and fell And through the hill gaps sunset light 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 And ever the stars above look down KEEPING HIS WORD. "ONLY a penny a box," he said; But the gentleman turned away his head, Of the boy who stood in the falling light. "Oh, sir!" he stammered, "you cannot know" (And he brushed from his matches the flakes of snow, That the sudden tear might have chance to fall.) "Or I think I think you would take them all. "Hungry and cold at our garret-pane, Ruby will watch till I come again, "One penny, and then I can buy the bread!" The gentleman stopped: "And you?" he said; "I-I can put up with them-hunger and cold, But Ruby is only five years old. "I promised our mother before she went- The gentleman paused at his open door, Such tales he had often heard before; But he fumbled his purse in the twilight drear, "I have nothing less than a shilling here." "Oh, sir, if you'll only take the pack I'll bring you the change in a moment back,— Indeed you may trust me !" "Trust you-no! But here is the shilling; take it and go." The gentleman lolled in his cozy chair, "And now it is nine by the clock," he said, "Time that my darlings were all a-bed; Kiss me good night,' and each be sure, When you're saying your prayers, remember the poor." Just then came a message--" A boy at the door,”- "I'm Ruby-Mike's brother-I've brought you the change. "Mike's hurt, sir; 'twas dark; the snow made him blind, And he didn't take notice the train was behind Till he slipped on the track; and then it whizzed by: And he's home in the garret; I think he will die. |