To Althea, From Prison - by Richard Lovelace

When Love with unconfined wings

Hovers within my Gates ;

And my divine Althea brings

To whisper at the Grates ;

When I lye tangled in her haire

And fettered to her eye ;

The Gods that wanton in the Aire,

Know no such Liberty. 

When flowing Cups run swiftly round

With no allaying Thames,

Our carelesse heads with Roses bound,

Our hearts with Loyall Flames ;

When thirsty griefe in Wine we steepe,

When Healths and draughts go free,

Fishes that tipple in the Deepe,

Know no such Libertie. 

When (like committed linnets) I

With shriller throat shall sing

The sweetnes, Mercy, Majesty,

And glories of my KING ;

When I shall voyce aloud, how Good

He is, how Great should be ;

Enlarged Winds that curle the Flood,

Know no such Liberty. 

Stone Walls do not a Prison make,

Nor Iron bars a Cage ;

Mindes innocent and quiet take

That for an Hermitage ;

If I have freedome in my Love,

And in my soule am free ;

Angels alone that sore above,

Injoy such Liberty.