As a fly is to an eagle,
Or a second to eternity,
Or a Borzoi to a beagle,
So is freedom to liberty.
Freedom must be treasured
Like fine whisky of the glen—
A precious liquor, measured
In the blood of valiant men.
Freedom, it is dearly bought
And served in tiny glasses.
When men don’t treat it as they ought,
They end up on their arses.
Beware! Unscrupulous liars,
Who you are bound to fall on,
Distil fake freedom in filthy byres
And serve it by the gallon.
A man who drinks of freedom
In time must learn sobriety,
Or he’ll be loathed and forced to withdraw from
Civilised society.
But liberty’s a winsome lass,
The air and ocean of all wenches,
Who, knowing neither bottle not glass,
Inspires a thirst where most she quenches.
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