Classic Poem

Oh, for a life of freedom — give me wings!
Wings for th' exultant spirit that aspires
To purge this earthly dross with heavenly fires —
To drink the waters of perennial springs,
And dwell serenely in the realms of rest!
Sick am I of this feverish toil and strife,
Sick of the weary struggle men call life;
And ever — ever longing to be blest,
I seek the good — the beautiful in vain —
Behold a substance, and embrace a shade;
The sweetest pleasure ends in bitterest pain —
The brightest phantasies the soonest fade.
I would be free — I would be free and find
The empyrean of the chainless mind.