MY spirit's on the mountains, where the birds In wild and sportive freedom wing the air, Amidst the heath flowers and the browsing herds, Where Nature's altar is, my spirit's there. It is my joy to tread the pathless hills, Though but in fancy -- for my mind is free And walks by sedgy ways and trickling rills, While I'm forbid the use of liberty. This is delusion -- but it is so sweet That I could live deluded. Let me be Persuaded that my springing soul may meet The eagle on the hills -- and I am free. Who'd not be flattered by a fate like this? To fancy is to feel our happiness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SISTER LOU by STERLING ALLEN BROWN THE TWO MYSTERIES by MARY ELIZABETH MAPES DODGE THE SHIPWRECK, SELECTION by WILLIAM FALCONER IF WE KNEW; OR, BLESSINGS OF TO-DAY by MAY LOUISE RILEY SMITH A FRAGMENT FROM THE AGAMEMNON OF AESCHYLOS by AESCHYLUS ANODYNE by HARRIET GRAY BLACKWELL |