Freedom poems
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O Navio Negreiro part 5 (With English Translation)
© Antonio de Castro Alves
Senhor Deus dos desgraçados!
Dizei-me vós, Senhor Deus!
The Wisdom Of Merlyn
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
These are the time--words of Merlyn, the voice of his age recorded,
All his wisdom of life, the fruit of tears in his youth, of joy in his manhood hoarded,
All the wit of his years unsealed, to the witless alms awarded.
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
Wisdom
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Love wine and beauty and the spring,
While wine is red and spring is here,
And through the almond blossoms ring
The dove-like voices of thy Dear.
Marching Through Georgia
© Henry Clay Work
[Solo] Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honor'd flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
While we were marching through Georgia.
The Song Of Hiawatha XII: The Son Of The Evening Star
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
The Vision of the Rock
© Charles Harpur
I SATE upon a lonely peak,
A backwood rivers course to view,
Verses Left by Mr. Pope
© Alexander Pope
With no poetic ardour fir'd
I press the bed where Wilmot lay;
That here he lov'd, or here expir'd,
Begets no numbers grave or gay.
Freedom
© Archibald Lampman
Out of the heart of the city begotten
Of the labour of men and their manifold hands,
Whose souls, that were sprung from the earth in her morning,
No longer regard or remember her warning,
Whose hearts in the furnace of care have forgotten
Forever the scent and the hue of her lands;
Morning
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O GRACIOUS breath of sunrise! divine air!
That brood'st serenely o'er the purpling hills;
O blissful valleys! nestling, cool and fair,
In the fond arms of yonder murmurous rills,
A Last Word
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Let us go hence, somewhither strange and cold,
To Hollow Lands where just men and unjust
Find end of labour, where's rest for the old,
Freedom to all from love and fear and lust.
Twine our torn hands! O pray the earth enfold
Our life-sick hearts and turn them into dust.
The National Paintings
© Joseph Rodman Drake
Awake,ye forms of verse divine!
Painting! descend on canvas wing,
Elegy Of Lincoln
© Joseph Furphy
Lincoln is gone who ruled the Western Land
From the Pacific to the Atlantic's brim
And cold and nerveless lies the mighty hand
That struck the fetters from the negro's limb.
Quatrains Of Life
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?
