Freedom poems

 / page 102 of 111 /
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magic to change the world

© Joseph Mayo Wristen

there is enough magic here
inside this one word
to change our world forever

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i waited and watched

© Joseph Mayo Wristen

street wizard glass stone hip idealist
smoking their bed time flower
beads into sky cat city café’ park music

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The Dormouse and the Doctor

© Alan Alexander Milne

There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And all the day long he'd a wonderful view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

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Jerusalem: I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep

© William Blake

I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep
And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow.
I see the Past, Present and Future existing all at once
Before me. O Divine Spirit, sustain me on thy wings,

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I see the Four-fold Man

© William Blake

I see the Four-fold Man, The Humanity in deadly sleep
And its fallen Emanation, the Spectre and its cruel Shadow.
I see the Past, Present and Future existing all at once
Before me. O Divine Spirit, sustain me on thy wings,

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Yeats Died Saturday In France

© Delmore Schwartz

Yeats died Saturday in France.
Freedom from his animal
Has come at last in alien Nice,
His heart beat separate from his will:
He knows at last the old abyss
Which always faced his staring face.

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Far Rockaway

© Delmore Schwartz


The radiant soda of the seashore fashions
Fun, foam and freedom. The sea laves
The Shaven sand. And the light sways forward
On self-destroying waves.

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I Knew A Woman

© Theodore Roethke

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!

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The Chronicle Of The Drum

© William Makepeace Thackeray

"'Though Europe against me was arm'd,
 Your chiefs and my people are true;
I still might have struggled with fortune,
 And baffled all Europe with you.

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I Don't Feel At Home Where I Am

© Regina Derieva

I don't feel at home where I am,
or where I spend time; only where,
beyond counting, there's freedom and calm,
that is, waves, that is, space where, when there,

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To Althea, From Prison

© Richard Lovelace

When, like committed linnets, I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King;
When I shall voice aloud how good

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Ode On The Insurrection In Candia

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Had I words of fire,
Whose words are weak as snow;
Were my heart a lyre
Whence all its love might flow
In the mighty modulations of desire,
In the notes wherewith man's passion worships woe;

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The Song Of The Standard

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Maiden most beautiful, mother most bountiful, lady of lands,
Queen and republican, crowned of the centuries whose years are thy sands,
See for thy sake what we bring to thee, Italy, here in our hands.

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The Litany Of Nations

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

CHORUSIf with voice of words or prayers thy sons may reach thee,
We thy latter sons, the men thine after-birth,
We the children of thy grey-grown age, O Earth,
O our mother everlasting, we beseech thee,

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The Halt Before Rome--September 1867

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Is it so, that the sword is broken,
Our sword, that was halfway drawn?
Is it so, that the light was a spark,
That the bird we hailed as the lark

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In Memory of Walter Savage Landor

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

By this white wandering waste of sea,
Far north, I hear
One face shall never turn to me
As once this year:

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Prelude

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Between the green bud and the red
Youth sat and sang by Time, and shed
From eyes and tresses flowers and tears,
From heart and spirit hopes and fears,

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Quia Multum Amavit

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

Am I not he that hath made thee and begotten thee,
I, God, the spirit of man?
Wherefore now these eighteen years hast thou forgotten me,
From whom thy life began?

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The Eve Of Revolution

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

The trumpets of the four winds of the world
From the ends of the earth blow battle; the night heaves,
With breasts palpitating and wings refurled,
With passion of couched limbs, as one who grieves

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Tenebrae

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

At the chill high tide of the night,
At the turn of the fluctuant hours,
When the waters of time are at height,
In a vision arose on my sight
The kingdoms of earth and the powers.