Let me my newly-won liberty taste!
Let me rejoice as a child once again!
And, as on pinions, with airy foot hast
Over the tapestried green of the plain!
Have I escaped from my prison so drear?
Shall I no more in my sad dungeon pine?
Let me in long and in thirsty draughts here
Drink in the breezes, so free, so divine

Thanks, thanks, ye trees, in smiling verdure dressed,
In that ye veil my prison-walls from sight!
I'll dream that I am free and blest
Why should I waken from a dream so bright?
Do not the spacious heavens encompass me?
Behold! my gaze, unshackled, free,
Pierces with joy the trackless realms of light!
There, where the gray-tinged hills of mist project,
My kingdom's boundaries begin;
Yon clouds, that tow'rd the south their course direct,
France's far-distant ocean seek to win.

Swiftly-flying clouds, hardy sailors through air!
Mortal hath roamed with ye, sailed with ye, ne'er!
Greetings of love to my youthful home bear!
I am a prisoner, I am in chains,
Ah, not a herald, save ye, now remains,
Free through the air hath your path ever been,
Ye are not subject to England's proud queen!

Yonder's a fisherman trimming his boat.