  Tell me, where is Freedom’s home? In forest wild—on ocean’s foam, Amidst the laughing air Of sunny skies? Or is it where The soft voluptuary lies In rich luxuriousness ’neath marble dome? Or does it dwell by moss-grown cell Where the lone hermit woos the sylvan glen, Deeming his mind, in solitude enshrined, Blest with its happiness afar from men? Tell me, which is Freedom’s path? Where the step no limit hath, The smiling earth Man tunes his song To soul-enamoured mirth, Devoid of care and undisturbed by wrath? Or when with schemes enwrapt in dreams The young enthusiast on Hope’s golden wings, By love inspired and ardent fancy fired, Replenishes life’s cup from pleasure’s springs. Tell me, then, does Freedom’s spell Revel in the battle’s knell, When the trumpet’s tone Betokens death, And a soul is gone In every passing breath, Whilst war’s loud clangour drowns each wild farewell, When o’er the grave of the fallen brave Memory’s bright tribute echoes Glory’s claim? And was the cause, which sought the world’s applause, Inspired by Freedom’s or Ambition’s aim? Tell me, where does Freedom’s cry Raise its purest notes on high? Oh, not within the halls Where Faction’s tongue Excited calls, As if th’ appeal it rung Would burst the bonds of every social tie. The brightest claim to lasting fame Is when in spirit, fired with honest pride, The patriot’s deed stirs nations to be freed, As when a Hampden fell, or Sidney died. Freedom, where is then thy home? Eye may range and steps may roam, And splendour vaunt its joys, And he whose breast The false world cloys In solitude feel blest, And fancy sport with some ideal gnome; The pride of might, in war delight, When the earth, bloodstained, rings with victory, But, amongst all, who on thy spirit call, Burns there a pure and sacred love of thee? Freedom, thou of name sublime, Born coeval with all time, Can riches, arms, Or power impart Thy courted charms, Unless the human heart Insures thy smiles unsullied with a crime? As when the soul from earth’s control On the bright wings of Faith mounts up on high, And offers prayer, in humble hope,—for where God’s spirit dwells, oh, there is Liberty! G. L. [Image of decorative bar not available.] |
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