Freedom poems

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We Are Accused Of Terrorism

© Nizar Qabbani

We are accused of terrorism
If we dare to write about the remains of a homeland
That is scattered in pieces and in decay
In decadence and disarray
About a homeland that is searching for a place
And about a nation that no longer has a face

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To The R. A. F.

© Alfred Noyes

Never since English ships went out

To singe the beard of Spain,

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Peace

© Bliss William Carman

THE sleeping tarn is dark
Below the wooded hill.
Save for its homing sounds,
The twilit world grows still.

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Hymn I

© John Greenleaf Whittier

O THOU, whose presence went before
Our fathers in their weary way,
As with Thy chosen moved of yore
The fire by night, the cloud by day!

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The Yankee Girl

© John Greenleaf Whittier

She sings by her wheel at that low cottage door,
Which the long evening shadow is stretching before;
With a music as sweet as the music which seems
Breathed softly and faintly in the ear of our dreams!

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After Election

© John Greenleaf Whittier

THE day's sharp strife is ended now,
Our work is done, God knoweth how!
As on the thronged, unrestful town
The patience of the moon looks down,

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The Missionary - Introduction

© William Lisle Bowles

_Characters._--Valdivia, commander of the Spanish armies--Lautaro, his
page, a native of Chili--Anselmo, the missionary--Indiana, his adopted
daughter, wife of Lautaro--Zarinel, the wandering minstrel.

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The World’s Convention Of The Friends Of Emancipation, Held In London In 1840

© John Greenleaf Whittier

YES, let them gather! Summon forth
The pledged philanthropy of Earth.
From every land, whose hills have heard
The bugle blast of Freedom waking;

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Canada

© Stephan Stephansson

It was formerly believed, on a sea-battered shore
though the storm at home blasted,
that in the distant west there still lay lands,
where calm and sun never ended,
for there the good season had found it's retreat
and freedom and compassion - all that is best.

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Longing

© George MacDonald

My heart is full of inarticulate pain,
And beats laborious. Cold ungenial looks
Invade my sanctuary. Men of gain,
Wise in success, well-read in feeble books,
No nigher come, I pray: your air is drear;
'Tis winter and low skies when ye appear.

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On The Castle Of Chillon

© George Gordon Byron

Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!

Brightest in dungeons, Liberty, thou art;

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The Golden Age

© Alfred Austin

Nor this the worst! When ripened Shame would hide
Fruits of that hour when Passion conquered Pride,
There are not wanting in this Christian land
The breast remorseless and the Thuggish hand,
 To advertise the dens where Death is sold,
And quench the breath of baby-life for gold!

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Gotham - Book I

© Charles Churchill

Far off (no matter whether east or west,

A real country, or one made in jest,

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The Centennial Year

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

A Hundred years — and she had sat, a queen
Sheltering her children, opening wide her gates
To all the inflowing tribes of earth. At first
Storms raged around her; but her stumbling feet

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Sonnett - XII

© James Russell Lowell

SUB PONDERE CRESCIT

The hope of Truth grows stronger, day by day;

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The Truce And The Peace

© Robinson Jeffers

(NOVEMBER, 1918)

Peace now for every fury has had her day,

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A Psalm Of Councel

© Joseph Furphy

Though some good folks may take it ill,

As trifling with parsonic frill,

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The Battle Of Moncontour

© Thomas Babbington Macaulay

Oh, weep for Moncontour! Oh! weep for the hour,
When the children of darkness and evil had power,
When the horsemen of Valois triumphantly trod
On the bosoms that bled for their rights and their God.

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Going Into Breeches

© Charles Lamb

Joy to Philip, he this day

Has his long coats cast away,

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Alaric In Italy

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Heard ye the Gothic trumpet's blast?

The march of hosts as Alaric passed?