FREEDOM
Of old sat freedom on the heights, The thunders breaking at her feet; Above her shook the starry lights, • She heard the torrents meet. There in iter place she did rejoice, Self-gathered in her prophet mind, But fragments of her mighty voice Came rolling on the wind. Then step’t she down through town and field To mingle with the human race, And part by part to men revealed The fullness of her face. Her open eyes desire the truth, The wisdom of a thousand years Is in them. May perpetual youth Keep dry their light from tears; That her lair form may stand and shine Make bright our days and light our dreams, Turning to scorn with lips divine The falsehood of extremes. —Tennyson.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/WHIRIB19480901.2.4
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White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 8, 1 September 1948, Page 1
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125FREEDOM White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 8, 1 September 1948, Page 1
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