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LIBERTY, by                    
First Line: Convention's walls and barriers touch her not
Last Line: She's travelled far along the roads of hell.


Convention's walls and barriers touch her not,
Each action, thought, and word her own, unchained;
Carefree, cautionless, and unrestrained,
Elusive as the fireflies' gleams which dot
Long lanes of elms along a lonely path;
Ironic Fate has mocked her many-fold,
And all but crushed her heart to leave her cold;
Mistress of self in spite of vengeful wrath,
A depth too bottomless fills her placid eyes,
Holding no contempt for any foe,
Only a happy smile to hide her woe;
No sign of vain regret or languid sighs.
The silver strands some bitter stories tell,
She's travelled far along the roads of hell.





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