Liberty’s Tree
Robert
Allan
Allan, Robert
Metadata research and editing
DVPP Project Team
Martin
Holmes
University of Victoria Digital Victorian Periodical Poetry Project
Victoria, BC, Canada
In the public domain
Poem signed Kilbarchan. R. Allan.
The Chartist Circular
1
43
176
When the Goddess of Freedom awoke from her trance,
font-size: 1.4rem; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 0.4em;
margin-left: 0.5rem; margin-bottom: 1em;
margin-top: 0.4rem;
margin-bottom: 0.4rem;
display: none;
display: inline;
display: block;
font-size: 1rem; width: 26em;
text-align: left !important; text-align: left; margin-left: 2em;
text-align: right; margin-top: -1em; margin-right: 1.75em; text-transform: uppercase;
Auto-tagged instances of cross-stanza rhyme based on existing labels.
CSS remediation, verified.
Created pom_42_incid_poem rendition to reset font-sizes.
Added useful rendition elements in anticipation of CSS reworking.
Add rendstyleitions and replace style attributes in the head and byline elements.
Re-organized change elements in descending date order.
Assigned dominant rhyme-scheme value to poem div using automated XSLT.
Removed catRef with target="dvpp:illustrationNone", now obsolete.
Set status to 'proofed'. Changed CSS to follow updated protocols and maintain consistency
across periodical/year. Tweaked and added sonic devices.
Liberty’s Tree
.
When the Goddess of Freedom awoke from her trance,
That long had been counted as dead,
And back to its den in dismay and affright
The spirit of tyranny fled ;
There was not a speck on the horizon’s brow,
All around was so lovely and fair —
Earth bloomed as an Eden with beautiful flowers,
For Heaven had planted them there.
The Goddess from these chose a beautiful plant,
She called it the Liberty Tree ;
And said—here’s an emblem of hope to the world,
Its soil is the home of the free.
I bequeath it to man— it is his at his birth—
And while he the “relic” shall guard,
The ne’er fading laurels of honour and fame,
His love and his truth shall reward.
It budded—it bloomed— so luxuriant it grew—
And so rich were the fruits that it bore—
Mankind were delighted to taste of the sweets—
’Twas pleasure untasted before.
In these there was wisdom and knowledge conveyed,
Before to the senses denied ;
Man stole not through earth as a slave to his kind,
But walked in his glory and pride.
There was love—there was peace—all rancour had ceased ;
No wild jarring elements rose —
And man hailed his brother in friendship and truth,
And wonder’d they e’er had been foes.
Unmask’d they now saw where grim tyranny lurk’d
Desolation had marked all its path,
Around it lay heap’d up the bones of the slain,
It seem’d as the valley of death.
Though now it should start, in its death pang, to strike,
And extirpate what liberty won—
As soon shall the demon ascend the blue vault,
And extinguish the bright beaming sun—
Than eradicate aught freedom’s hand hath achieved,
And holds as a treasure so dear:
To the place of its birth it must quickly retire,
Never more upon earth to appear.
My countrymen, shrink not—nor scorn the fair prize
Your sites once so gloriously won—
’Tis Liberty calls you again to be men,
For Tyranny’s race it is run.
Who would be a slave, let him herd with the base,
Nor encumber the arm of the free,
Let him sneak to his den, and ne’er taste of the fruits
That drop from the Liberty Tree.
Kilbarchan
.
R. Allan
.