TRUE FREEDOM.
TO J. F. F.
He is not truly free who fears to speak
The burning words that flame from heart to tongue,
When in the presence of a hoary wrong,
E’en though upheld by gown and surplice sleek,
And hears unheeded the oppressed and weak.
Nor friendship from the great, the rich, the strong,
Nor grateful plaudits from the servile throng,
The free-born spirit must expect or seek.
Think not that power and place will come to thee—
Sooner some sordid soul the race will win;
E’en in the days of Cid and Paladin,
And glorious days of Arthur’s chivalry,
The golden spurs by cravens oft were won,
While hearts as brave as Arthur’s died unknown.