Lucia (White) Jennison (“Owen Innsley”) (1850– )

“AND this is freedom!” cried the serf. “At last

I tread free soil, the free air blows on me;”

And, wild to learn the sweets of liberty,

With eager hope his bosom bounded fast.

But not for naught had the long years amassed

Habit of slavery; among the free

He still was servile, and, disheartened, he

Crept back to the old bondage of the past.

Long did I bear a hard and heavy chain

Wreathed with amaranth and asphodel,

But through the flower-breaths stole the weary pain.

I cast it off and fled, but ’t was in vain;

For when once more I passed by where it fell,

I took it up and bound it on again.