Freedom (poem)

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In mental freedom I revel at will.
No voice my expression of thought can still.
Political freedom inheritance gives;
O'er actions, like thoughts, no master lives.
Industrial freedom — alas! I crave
The right to toil with the mien of a slave.
A right I have to command my thought,
A right that conflict and blood have bought.
The right to command my thought in deed
Our fathers' blood made liberty's creed.
The right to command the menus of life
Is the standard of progress, —welcome the strife!

D. D. L.