I
O Freedom! whose pure soul and heart embrace
Translates me into heaven, I draw for breath
The joy of angels who have not known death.
Child-like, I look up in thy loving face,
Else gaze around and point, and curious place
My hand on Mottoes, hung on high. One saith:
"Beware, for he not with me scatterith."
Its meaning comes to me with growth, like grace.
Ah, as a youngster, on its mother's arm,
Seeing a hideous thing approaching night,
Will not lay down its head and shut its eye,
But will with look and lung express alarm—
My mind cries out in dread—when sea and sky
Show dragons, tendencies that work thee harm.