Freedom

Dublin Core

Title

Freedom

Description

My harp has long neglected laid,
And very little music made;
My Muse, at length, has fann'd the fire,
And Freedom sweet attunes my lyre.


FREEDOM's embalm'd in every heart,
And oh! how loath with it we part!
Pursu'd by all, by all desir'd,
Caress'd by all, by all admir'd!


FREEDOM'S the statesman's proudest boast,
And she's the patriotic toast;
She is the theme of all the sage,
And beautifies the poet's page.


FREEDOM nerves the warrior's arm,
Amid, the din of Mars' alarm,
'Tis this that cheers the martial band,
Contending for their natal land.


FREEDOM'S the nurse of Science fair,
And fosters gen'us bright and rare;
She places man on equal ground,
Strews peace and plenty all around.

O, FREEDOM, fair goddess of peace!
Appear, and oppression shall cease;
O, listen, O, pity and see!
O, speak, and the slave shall be free.

Creator

B.B.

Source

1: 26, p. 104

Date

1827.09.07

Collection

Citation

B.B., “Freedom,” Periodical Poets, accessed May 18, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/68.

Comments

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