Treasure Island

Robert Lowe

(1811-1892 / England)

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The Price Of Freedom

They tell us that freedom’s a holiday dress,
Very gaudy and flaunting they’re free to confess,
But, too thin for the storm and too frail for the blast,
It is quite out of place when the sky’s overcast;
And that those on whose shoulders ’tis worthy to fall,
Not to wear it to rags, will not wear it all.

They tell us that freedom’s a suppliant that bends
To the insults of foes and the treason of friends;

[Hata Bildir]