THE winds, as at their hour of birth, Leaning upon the ridged sea, Breathed low around the rolling earth With mellow preludes, 'We are free.' The streams, through many a lilied row Down-carolling to the crisped sea, Low-tinkled with a bell-like flow Atween the blossoms, 'We are free.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHERHOOD (2) by EDWIN MARKHAM A TOCCATA OF GALUPPI'S by ROBERT BROWNING PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 58. AL-MUHSI by EDWIN ARNOLD VALUATION by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON ABER STATIONS: STATIO PRIMA by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN EPITAPH ON LEVI LINCOLN THAXTER; INSCRIBED ON A ROCK ABOVE THE GRAVE by ROBERT BROWNING |