Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/240

POEMS OF OCCASION Came from a living mould

In glory blent.

Tell of the storms ye met,

Enter! fear not the bars

Across your pathway set;

Enter at Freedom's porch,

For you I lift my torch,

For you my coronet

Is rayed with stars.

To desecrate my fee,

Nor yet have held in awe

The justice that makes free,—

Avaunt, ye darkling brood!

By Right my house hath stood:

My name is Liberty,

My throne is Law."

O wonderful and bright,

Immortal Freedom, hail!

Front, in thy fiery might,

The midnight and the gale;

Undaunted on this base

Guard well thy dwelling-place:

Till the last sun grow pale

Let there be Light!

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