Freedom from fear is the freedomI claim for you my motherland!Freedom from the burden of the ages, bending your head,breaking…
Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-"We play from the time we wake till…
A little Road—not made of Man—Enabled of the Eye—Accessible to Thill of Bee—Or Cart of Butterfly—If Town it have—beyond itself—'Tis…