Treasure Island

Alfred Lord Tennyson

(6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892 / Lincoln / England)

Of Old Sat Freedom on the Heights


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 fulness of her face--

Grave mother of majestic works,
From her isle-altar 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!

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: freedom, truth, mother, light, wind, god, work, dream

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Of Old Sat Freedom on the Heights by Alfred Lord Tennyson )

Enter the verification code :

  • Amanda M (4/1/2007 7:20:00 AM)

    This is one of my favourite poems ever. It's wierd how it was written so long ago, but it's still relevant today. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »
[Hata Bildir]