Freedom

When I would think of what is free,
O timeless one, I think of thee;
Thou hast forgotten how we went together
Across the heather
Where I am left behind;
And I rejoice thy motions are
Swift, indifferent and far:
The birth-springs of the wind
Are for thy roving; and for me
The joy of bringing all those things to mind
We thought together.
Treading these little pathways of the heather.