France: An Ode

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

[EXCERPT]	 
...
     O Liberty ! with profitless endeavour
Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour ;
     But thou nor swell'st the victor's strain, nor ever
Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power.
     Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee,
     (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee)
     [Image]Alike from Priestcraft's harpy minions,
     And factious Blasphemy's obscener slaves,
     Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions,
The guide of homeless winds, and playmate of the waves !
And there I felt thee !--on that sea-cliff's verge,
     Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above,
Had made one murmur with the distant surge !
Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare,
And shot my being through earth, sea, and air,
     Possessing all things with intensest love,
     O Liberty ! my spirit felt thee there.

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• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : From 'religious Musings'
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• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Garden Of Boccaccio, The
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• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Good, Great Man, The
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• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Fragment
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Forbearance
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Fears In Solitude
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Faded Flower, The
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Exchange, The
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Epitaph
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• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Duty Surviving Self-love
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Dungeon, The
• Samuel Taylor Coleridge : Despair