Freedom poems
/ page 55 of 111 /
The Wind And The Whirlwind
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I have a thing to say. But how to say it?
I have a cause to plead. But to what ears?
How shall I move a world by lamentation,
A world which heeded not a Nation's tears?
The Hunter Of The Prairies
© William Cullen Bryant
Ay, this is freedom!--these pure skies
Were never stained with village smoke:
The Conversation Of Eiros And Charmion
© Edgar Allan Poe
Dreams are with us no more;but of these mysteries
anon. I rejoice to see you looking life-like and rational.
The film of the shadow has already passed from off your
eyes. Be of heart, and fear nothing. Your allotted days of
stupor have expired, and to-morrow I will myself induct you
into the full joys and wonders of your novel existence.
Comfort of the Fields
© Archibald Lampman
What would'st thou have for easement after grief,
When the rude world hath used thee with despite,
And care sits at thine elbow day and night,
Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief?
The Tower of the Dream
© Charles Harpur
But not thus always are our dreams benign;
Oft are they miscreationsgloomier worlds,
Crowded tempestuously with wrongs and fears,
More ghastly than the actual ever knew,
And rent with racking noises, such as should
Go thundering only through the wastes of hell.
Chrismus On The Plantation
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
It was Chrismus Eve, I mind hit fu' a mighty gloomy day--
Bofe de weathah an' de people--not a one of us was gay;
Cose you 'll t'ink dat 's mighty funny 'twell I try to mek hit cleah,
Fu' a da'ky 's allus happy when de holidays is neah.
For Your Boy And Mine
© Edgar Albert Guest
Your dream and my dream is not that we shall rest,
But that our children after us shall know life at its best;
For all we care about ourselvesa crust of bread or two,
A place to sleep and clothes to wear is all that we'd pursue.
We'd tramp the world on sunny days, both light of heart and mind,
And give no thought to days to come or days we leave behind.
July The Fourth
© Edgar Albert Guest
As when a little babe is born the parents cannot guess
The story of the future years, their grief or happiness,
So came America to earth, the child of higher things,
A nation that should light the way for all men's visionings;
A land with but a dream to serve, such was our country then,
A prophet to prepare the way of liberty of men!
The Campaign, A Poem, To His Grace The Duke Of Marlborough
© Joseph Addison
While crowds of princes your deserts proclaim,
Proud in their number to enrol your name;
Freedom
© John Kenyon
Tis not because fierce swords are flashing there,
With license and a reckless scorn of life,
The Lord of the Isles: Canto III.
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Hast thou not mark'd, when o'er thy startled head
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XIV. -- The Crew Of The
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay
King Olaf's fleet assembled lay,
"The Undying One" - Canto II
© Caroline Norton
'Neath these, and many more than these, my arm
Hath wielded desperately the avenging steel--
And half exulting in the awful charm
Which hung upon my life--forgot to feel!
Tale XVI
© George Crabbe
cause -
This creature frights her, overpowers, and awes."
Six weeks had pass'd--"In truth, my love, this
The Pelican Island
© James Montgomery
Light as a flake of foam upon the wind,
Keel-upward from the deep emerged a shell,
The Deans Answer
© Jonathan Swift
The nymph who wrote this in an amorous fit,
I cannot but envy the pride of her wit,
Which thus she will venture profusely to throw
On so mean a design, and a subject so low.
An Heroic Epistle of Hudibras To His Lady
© Samuel Butler
I who was once as great as Caesar,
Am now reduc'd to Nebuchadnezzar;
Freedom
© Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
Oft through my native land I roved before,
But never such a cheerful spirit bore.
Victory Britannia -- from Runnamede, final lines
© John Logan
Albem. Rapt into heaven,
High visions pass before the holy man;
His tranced accent is the voice divine.
