How lonely is vast Freedom! I may go,
Or come, or sit in the still house of thought,
All idleness, unseeking and unsought,
From the gray morn to noon, to evening's glow;
None shall reprove, if vacant hands I show,
Or question why the task remains unwrought;
Or done, or never done, 'twill be as naught,
To every creature on the earth below.

How lonely is vast Freedom! I were fain
To follow any who would be my liege;
To say, " Do this, " or, " To the world's end ride! "
I am as he who once sought all in vain
To enter his loved city, in her siege;
" How lone is Freedom! " at her gate he cried.