EXCERPT] <br />... <br /> O Liberty ! with profitless endeavour <br />Have I pursued thee, many a weary hour ; <br /> But thou nor swell'st the victor's strain, nor ever <br />Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power. <br /> Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee, <br /> (Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee) <br /> [Image]Alike from Priestcraft's harpy minions, <br /> And factious Blasphemy's obscener slaves, <br /> Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions, <br />The guide of homeless winds, and playmate of the waves ! <br />And there I felt thee !--on that sea-cliff's verge, <br /> Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above, <br />Had made one murmur with the distant surge ! <br />Yes, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare, <br />And shot my being through earth, sea, and air, <br /> Possessing all things with intensest love, <br /> O Liberty ! my spirit felt thee there.<br /><br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/france-an-ode/
