Freedom (Ridge)

Let men be free! All violence is but the agony Of caged things fighting blindly for the right To be and breathe and burn their little hour. Bare spirits--not debight In smooth-set garments of philosophy; But near earth forces, elemental, crude, Scarce knowing their invicible, rude power; Within the close of their primeval servitude Half comatose.

Who, ravening for their depleted dower Of so much sun and air and warmth and food, And the same right to procreate and love As the beasts have and the birds, Strike wild--not having words To parry with---at the cold force above.

Let men be free! Hate is the price Of servitude, paid covertly; and vice But the unclean recoil of tortured flesh Whipped through the centuries within a mesh Spun out of priestly art. Oh men, arise, be free!--Who breaks one bar Of tyranny in this so bitter star Has cleansed its bitterness in part.