Alfred Lord Tennyson
Of old sat Freedom on the heights,
The thunders breaking at her feet:
Above her shook the starry lights:
She heard the torrents meet.
There in her place she did rejoice,
Self-gather'd in her prophet-mind,
But fragments of her mighty voice
Came rolling on the wind.
Then stept she down thro' town and field
To mingle with the human race,
And part by part to men reveal'd
The fullness of her face -
Grave mother of majestic works,
From her isle-alter gazing down,
Who, God-like, grasps the triple forks,
And, King-like, wears the crown:
Her open eyes desire the truth.
The wisdom of a thousand years
Is in them. May perpetual youth
Keep dry their light from tears;
That her fair form may stand and shine
Make bright our days and light our dreams,
Turning to scorn with lips divine
The falsehood of extremes!
Alfred Lord Tennyson's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Freedom by Alfred Lord Tennyson )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- To Death, Susmit Panda
- O'er a summer's night, Hirotsugu Daba
- A Quiet End, Kathy Liu
- Thirty-Three Thousand Defeats, Jeff Gangwer
- Penalty Shots, Jeff Gangwer
- Poems without Homes, Jeff Gangwer
- Four Nails, Jeff Gangwer
- Nobody Will Ever Read This, Jeff Gangwer
- Perspective, Hirotsugu Daba
- Please Don't Ask Me, 'How Are You? ', LUVinThe NOW