Poems About Freedom (A Collection of Great Poems)

Poems about freedom from great poets and the best beautiful poems to feel wonderful. The best poetry is ever written about freedom. Read all of the poems about freedom.

Poems About Freedom

The poems about freedom, imprisonment, dreams, and reality are explored by the poets on this list. Each author, from Edna St. Vincent Millay to Ezra Pound, has their own manner of expressing what it means to be free or to have that freedom taken away.

Poems about freedom and liberty have consistently drawn the attention of poets throughout history, whether it was Romantic artists endorsing the values of liberty in the wake of the French Revolution or more contemporary poets reflecting on the diverse interpretations of freedom around the globe.

Here are ten of our favorite poems about freedom to touch upon freedom and what it means to be ‘free’.

1. The Freedom Of The Moon by Robert Frost

I’ve tried the new moon tilted in the air
Above a hazy tree-and-farmhouse cluster
As you might try a jewel in your hair.
I’ve tried it fine with little breadth of luster,
Alone, or in one ornament combining
With one first-water start almost shining.

I put it shining anywhere I please.
By walking slowly on some evening later,
I’ve pulled it from a crate of crooked trees,
And brought it over glossy water, greater,
And dropped it in, and seen the image wallow,
The color run, all sorts of wonder follow.

2. Bound and Free by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Come to me, Love! Come on the wings of the wind!
Fly as the ring-dove would fly to his mate!
Leave all your cares and your sorrows behind!
Leave all the fears of your future to Fate!
Come! and our skies shall be glad with the gold
That paled into gray when you parted from me.
Come! but remember that, just as of old,
You must be bound, Love, and I must be free.

Life has lost savour since you and I parted;
I have been lonely, and you have been sad.
Youth is too brief to be sorrowful-hearted—
Come! and again let us laugh and be glad.
Lips should not sigh that are fashioned to kiss—
Breasts should not ache that joy’s secret have found.
Come! but remember, in spite of all this,
I must be free, Love, while you must be bound.

You must be bound to be true while you live,
And I keep my freedom forever, as now.
You must ask only for that which I give—
Kisses and love-words, but never a vow.
Come! I am lonely, and long for your smile.
Bring back the lost lovely Summer to me!
Come! but remember, remember the while,
That you must be bound, Love, and I must be free.

3. I Love To Walk Against The Yellow Light by Philip Henry Savage

I love to walk against the yellow light,
The lemon-yellow of the first daylight,
When cold and clear above the frozen earth
The white sun rises far down to the right.

And then to think of life is very sweet;
The shackles fall and drop about one’s feet;
Till in the clear forgetfulness of morn
It seems the world and life are all complete.

‘T is good to be forgotten and forget;
To look upon the sun and so beget
A golden present, and a past that’s free,
A little time, of memory and regret.

And when one strikes and stumbles on a stone,
And turns to find the wingèd fancies flown —
Yet through the passages of life that day
Will run a radiance other than its own.

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4. On Clothes by Kahlil Gibran

And the weaver said, Speak to us of Clothes.
And he answered:
Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful.
And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain.
Would that you could meet the sun and the wind with more of your skin and less of your raiment,
For the breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind.

Some of you say, “It is the north wind who has woven the clothes we wear.”
And I say, Ay, it was the north wind,
But shame was his loom, and the softening of the sinews was his thread.
And when his work was done he laughed in the forest.
Forget not that modesty is for a shield against the eye of the unclean.
And when the unclean shall be no more, what were modesty but a fetter and a fouling of the mind?
And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.

5. I Go Out On The Road Alone by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov

Alone I set out on the road;
The flinty path is sparkling in the mist;
The night is still. The desert harks to God,
And star with star converses.

The vault is overwhelmed with solemn wonder
The earth in cobalt aura sleeps. . .
Why do I feel so pained and troubled?
What do I harbor: hope, regrets?

I see no hope in years to come,
Have no regrets for things gone by.
All that I seek is peace and freedom!
To lose myself and sleep!

But not the frozen slumber of the grave…
I’d like eternal sleep to leave
My life force dozing in my breast
Gently with my breath to rise and fall;

By night and day, my hearing would be soothed
By voices sweet, singing to me of love.
And over me, forever green,
A dark oak tree would bend and rustle.

6. Vacation Song by Frank Dempster Sherman

When study and school are over,
How jolly it is to be free,
Away in the fields of clover,
The honey-sweet haunts of the bee!

Away in the woods to ramble,
Where, merrily all day long,
The birds in the bush and bramble
Are filling the summer with song.

Away in the dewy valley
To follow the murmuring brook,
Or sit on its bank and dally
Awhile with a line and a hook.

Away from the stir and bustle,
The noise of the town left behind:
Vacation for sport and muscle,
The winter for study and mind.

There’s never a need to worry,
There’s never a lesson to learn,
There’s never a bell to hurry,
There’s never a duty to spurn.

So play till the face grows ruddy
And muscles grow bigger, and then
Go back to the books and study;
We’ll find it as pleasant again.

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7. A Dream and A Song by William Stanley Braithwaite

A dream comes in and a song goes forth;
The wind is south and the sun is north —
The daisies run on the dunes to the sea,
And over the world my soul goes free.

Ah, over the world to sing and roam
In the sun and wind- without a home
Till a woman’s heart shall dream and say:
“O song of the dreamer I bid you stay

And sing in my heart: make glad my feet
To run as the winds do, soft and fleet
Over the dunes and down to the sea,
Where Love came home in a dream to me.”

8. Freedom by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I care not who were vicious back of me,
No shadow of their sins on me is shed.
My will is greater than heredity.
I am no worm to feed upon the dead.

My face, my form, my gestures and my voice,
May be reflections from a race that was.
But this I know, and knowing it, rejoice,
I am Myself, a part of the Great Cause.

I am a spirit! Spirit would suffice,
If rightly used, to set a chained world free.
Am I not stronger than a mortal vice
That crawls the length of some ancestral tree?

9. Apostate by Léonie Adams

From weariness I looked out on the stars

And there beheld them, fixed in throbbing joy,

Nor racked by such mad dance of moods as mars

For us each moment’s grace with swift alloy.

And as they pierced the heavens’ serene deep

An envy of that one consummate part

Swept me, who mock. Whether I laugh or weep,

Some inner silences are at my heart.

Cold shame is mine for all the masks I wear,

Belying that in me which shines and sings

Before Him, to face down man’s alien stare—

A graceless puppet on unmeaning strings,

I that looked out, and saw, and was at rest,

Stars, and faint wings, rose-etched along the west.

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10. The Lake Isle by Ezra Pound

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop,
With the little bright boxes
piled up neatly upon the shelves
And the loose fragrant cavendish
and the shag,
And the bright Virginia
loose under the bright glass cases,
And a pair of scales
not too greasy,
And the volailles dropping in for a word or two in passing,
For a flip word, and to tidy their hair a bit.

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves,
Lend me a little tobacco-shop,
or install me in any profession
Save this damn’d profession of writing,
where one needs one’s brains all the time.

Throughout history, poets have continually focused on freedom and liberty, whether it was Romantic writers defending the principles of liberty in the aftermath of the French Revolution or more modern poets considering the various meanings of freedom throughout the world.

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Poems About Freedom (A Collection of Great Poems)