Poems and Songs Celebrating America

Ann Braybrooks

• Éditeur: Dover Publications
• Année: 2014
• ISBN:
  9780486798189
• Sujet: Literature
• Sous-sujet: North American Literary Collections

A tribute to the ideals and accomplishments of American history, this anthology features inspiring verse by Carl Sandburg, Walt Whitman, Langston Hughes, Phillis Wheatley, Katharine Lee Bates, John Greenleaf Whittier, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and other noteworthy writers.
Contents include Walt Whitman's `I Hear America Singing,` Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's `Paul Revere's Ride,` `Concord Hymn` by Ralph Waldo Emerson, Carl Sandburg's `Chicago,` Oliver Wendell Holmes's `Old Ironsides,` and `Liberty Tree` by Thomas Paine. Additional poems and songs include John Greenleaf Whittier's `The Poor Voter on Election Day,` Francis Scott Key's `The Star-Spangled Banner,` `Battle Hymn of the Republic` by Julia Ward Howe, Emma Lazarus's `New Colossus,` and Myra Sklarew's `Monuments.`

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER (1807–1892)

If Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was the most popular nineteenth-century poet, Whittier was a close second. Readers in both England and the United States embraced his moral, often sentimental, verse. He was a prominent abolitionist and supporter of humanitarian causes.

Barbara Frietchie

Up from the meadows rich with corn,

Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand

Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep,

Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the 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

Of noon looked down, and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,

Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,

She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic window the staff she set,

To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,

Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right

He glanced; the old flag met his sight.

“Halt!”—the dust-brown ranks stood fast.

“Fire!”—out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;

It rent the banner with seam and gash.

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff

Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.

She leaned far out on the window-sill,

And shook it forth with a royal will.

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,

But spare your country’s flag,” she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,

Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred

To life at that woman’s deed and word:

“Who touches a hair of yon gray head

Dies like a dog! March on!” he said.

All day long through Frederick street

Sounded the tread of marching feet:

All day long that free flag tost

Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light

Shone over it with a warm good-night.

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

Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down

On thy stars below in Frederick town!

Centennial Hymn
Written for the opening of the international
exhibition, Philadelphia, May 10, 1876.

I.

Our father’s God! from out whose hand

The centuries fall like grains of sand,

We meet to-day, united, free,

And loyal to our land and Thee,

To thank Thee for the era done,

And trust Thee for the opening one.

II.

Here, where of old, by Thy design,

The fathers spake that word of Thine

Whose echo is the glad refrain

Of rended bolt and falling chain,

To grace our festal time, from all

The zones of earth our guests we call.

III.

Be with us while the New World greets

The Old World thronging all its streets,

Unveiling all the triumphs won

By art or toil beneath the sun;

A...