Poems (Denver)/I would be free
I WOULD BE FREE.
I would be free! thou God of earth and heaven,
Who didst not make the high immortal soul
To sink beneath the storm-clouds earthward driven.
The clouds of darkness that around us roll.
O! in our brightest days of early promise,
A warning voice bids slumbering joy depart;
A cold, strong grasp tears every blossom from us,
A cold, dead hand is laid upon each heart.
Who didst not make the high immortal soul
To sink beneath the storm-clouds earthward driven.
The clouds of darkness that around us roll.
O! in our brightest days of early promise,
A warning voice bids slumbering joy depart;
A cold, strong grasp tears every blossom from us,
A cold, dead hand is laid upon each heart.
I would be free! I would throw off the mountain
Of weariness that would my spirit break,
And upward spring, e'en as a free-born fountain
Springs to the music that its murmurs make.
Sad thoughts should be but as the little pebbles,
Soon, though reluctant, swept far out of view,
While the glad waves dash o'er the simple rebels,
Shouting with laughter, and with triumph too.
Of weariness that would my spirit break,
And upward spring, e'en as a free-born fountain
Springs to the music that its murmurs make.
Sad thoughts should be but as the little pebbles,
Soon, though reluctant, swept far out of view,
While the glad waves dash o'er the simple rebels,
Shouting with laughter, and with triumph too.
I would be free! earth must not play the tyrant,
Nor make one thought of mine bow to its sway;
My soul would mount above, a calm aspirant,
Flinging its leaden shackles all away.
Passions should have no language; deeply lettered
Upon my heart their characters have been;
They should go forth, by silence strongly fettered,
Their fire to earth, their ashes to the wind.
Nor make one thought of mine bow to its sway;
My soul would mount above, a calm aspirant,
Flinging its leaden shackles all away.
Passions should have no language; deeply lettered
Upon my heart their characters have been;
They should go forth, by silence strongly fettered,
Their fire to earth, their ashes to the wind.
Their fire to earth! aye, lie ye there and smoulder!
None, none have known the heart from which ye came;
None, none shall know the thoughts that with you moulder
Fast into embers, that were once a flame.
Go, ashes, to the air! fast, fast, and scatter!
Ye covered long my spirit's brightness o'er;
Winds, take them where ye list! it does not matter;
I care not where, so they return no more!
None, none have known the heart from which ye came;
None, none shall know the thoughts that with you moulder
Fast into embers, that were once a flame.
Go, ashes, to the air! fast, fast, and scatter!
Ye covered long my spirit's brightness o'er;
Winds, take them where ye list! it does not matter;
I care not where, so they return no more!