| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | VII. Independence | | By Aubrey Thomas de Vere (1814–1902) |
| | | FREE born, it is my purpose to die free. | |
| Away, degrading cares; and ye not less, | |
| Delights of sense and gauds of worldliness;— | |
| I have no part in you, nor you in me. | |
| They that walk brave wear the world’s livery; | 5 |
| Their badge of service is their sumptuous dress. | |
| Seek then your prey in gilded palaces; | |
| Revere my hovel’s humble liberty. | |
| Are there no flowers on earth, in heaven no stars, | |
| That we must place in such low things our trust? | 10 |
| Let me have noble toils, if toil I must,— | |
| The patriot’s task or friendship’s sacred cares. | |
| Beside my board that man shall break no crust | |
| Who sells his birthright for a feast of dust. | | | | |
|
|
