THE FREE.
The joyous bay of a hound at play,
The caw of a rook on its homeward way:
Oh! these shall be the music for me,
For I love the voices of the Free.
The caw of a rook on its homeward way:
Oh! these shall be the music for me,
For I love the voices of the Free.
The deer starts by, with his antlers high,
Proudly tossing his head to the sky:
The barb runs the plain, unbroke by the rein,
With steaming nostrils and flying mane.
The clouds are stirr'd by the eaglet bird,
As the flap of its swooping pinion is heard:
Oh! these shall be the creatures for me,
For my soul was form'd to love the Free.
Proudly tossing his head to the sky:
The barb runs the plain, unbroke by the rein,
With steaming nostrils and flying mane.
The clouds are stirr'd by the eaglet bird,
As the flap of its swooping pinion is heard:
Oh! these shall be the creatures for me,
For my soul was form'd to love the Free.
The mariner brave, in his bark on the wave,
May laugh at the walls round a kingly slave;
And the one whose lot, is the desert spot,
Has no dread of an envious foe in his cot.
The thrall and state at the palace gate,
Are what my spirit has learnt to hate:
Oh! the hills shall be a home for me,
For I'd leave a throne for the hut of the Free.
May laugh at the walls round a kingly slave;
And the one whose lot, is the desert spot,
Has no dread of an envious foe in his cot.
The thrall and state at the palace gate,
Are what my spirit has learnt to hate:
Oh! the hills shall be a home for me,
For I'd leave a throne for the hut of the Free.
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