O Freedom

O Freedom, in thy cause I fought, 
   For twenty years I fought in vain; 
And in my mountain shelter naught
   But worthless trophies now remain. 
Yet in my heart I hear a cry, 
   Which never there makes a vain appeal:
I would once more beneath thy sky
   Brandish my sharp and shining steel. 

How much one stakes upon thy dream, 
   How much for but thy name we pay; 
How cheap the passing ages seem, 
   When years are given for thy day. 
How many still would fight and die
   In thine old cause and for thy weal! 
I would once more beneath thy sky
   Brandish my sharp and shining steel. 

The purest love I give away, 
   The bliss of it I set at naught; 
Again I'm on my wayward way 
   Seeking what I have often sought. 
My wounded hopes, my bleeding ties, 
   No peace inglorious e’er shall heal: 
I would once more beneath thy skies 
   Brandish my sharp and shining steel. 

O Freedom, though thy price be high, 
   Though one for thee his life must seal, 
I would once more beneath thy sky
  Brandish my sharp and shining steel. 

From A Chant of Mystics (James T. White & Co., 1921) by Ameen Rihani. This poem is in the public domain.