In thy descent through azures, all aglow

With circling spheres, the beauty of each blaze,

And grandeur, then, of all, entrance thy gaze.

Thou thinkest, why not thus all life below?

Perceiving, then that all the breezes blow

Upward and onward, in the skyey maze,

Thou wouldst go back and start with them, to raise

A new creation from chaotic throe.

Thou seest plainly that without that breeze,

The breath of God, all that thou couldst create,

Were lifeless, save to turn on thee with hate,

And chase an age with grim atrocities;

But with that breath, thou couldst raise life to mate

The Planet's splendor, in the azures Peace.

O Freedom! as thy sister spirit, Spring,

Pausing above the earth, sees every hue

Of her prismatic crown, reflected true

In forests and in fields, and fledgling's wing,

So thou dost see thy spirit glorying

With faith, that man is more than Nature's spew—

In human spirit that, from beauty drew

First breath to know that soul is more than thing.

O Freedom! fain we follow thee in flight

From chaos to God's glory round and round,

Aloft! how like an elk pursued by hound,

To brinks thou springest toward the distant height

And, on bent knees, then speedest without sound,

Like Faith through Death, till, lo! thou dost alight.