Freedom poems

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Elegy XIV. Declining an Invitation To Visit Foreign Countries

© William Shenstone

While others, lost to friendship, lost to love,
Waste their best minutes on a foreign strand,
Be mine, with British nymph or swain to rove,
And court the Genius of my native land.

Battle-Flags Of Illinois

© Harriet Monroe

Through the red dusk of war they flew
From Shiloh to the sea.
Black fumes from shattered bolts that blew
Withered the colors three,
And crimson rains made sombre stains.

Peter Bell The Third

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.

Song for Australia

© Caroline Carleton

There is a land where summer skies
Are gleaming with a thousand dyes
Blending in witching harmonies,

Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter II

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

'Twas thus she comforted her soul. And then,
She had found a friend, a phoenix among men,
Which made it easier to compound with life,
Easier to be a woman and a wife.

Expostulation

© John Greenleaf Whittier

OUR fellow-countrymen in chains!

Slaves, in a land of light and law!

Charleston Retaken. Dec. 14, 1782

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

AS some half-vanquished lion,
Who long hath kept at bay
A band of sturdy foresters
Barring his blood-stained way--

Freedom

© Alfred Tennyson

Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet:
Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.

Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Such were the words he spake; and soon the fleet
Had dared the angry deep: but Cato's voice
While praising, calmed the youthful chieftain's rage.

Expostulation

© William Cowper

Why weeps the muse for England? What appears

In England's case to move the muse to tears?

Hymn For The Celebration Of Emancipation At Newburyport

© John Greenleaf Whittier

NOT unto us who did but seek
The word that burned within to speak,
Not unto us this day belong
The triumph and exultant song.

No not to-night, dear child; I cannot go;
I'm busy, tired; they knew I should not come;
you do not need me there. Dear, be content,
and take your pleasure; you shall tell me of it.
There, go to don your miracles of gauze,
and come and show yourself a great pink cloud.

A Stave Of Roving Tim

© George Meredith

(ADDRESSED TO CERTAIN FRIENDLY TRAMPS.)

To A Kindly Critic

© Edgar Albert Guest

If it's wrong to believe in the land that we love
And to pray for Our Flag to the good God above;
If it's wrong to believe that Our Country is best;
That honor's her standard, and truth is her crest;
If placing her first in our prayers and our song
Is false to true reason, we're glad to be wrong.

The Borough. Letter XIX: The Parish-Clerk

WITH our late Vicar, and his age the same,
His clerk, hight Jachin, to his office came;
The like slow speech was his, the like tall slender

Give Your Heart To The Hawks

I

The apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

After Death

THE passionate sobs of the dear friends that came
To look their last upon my living frame,
And catch the fainting accents of my breath,
That fluttered in the atmosphere of death,