To Althea, from Prison

　　 by Richard Lovelace

　　 When Love with unconfinéd wings

　　 Hovers within my gates，

　　 And my divine Althea brings

　　 To whisper at the grates；

　　 When I lie tangled in her hair

　　 And fettered to her eye，

　　 The birds that wanton in the air

　　 Know no such liberty.

　　 When flowing cups run swiftly round，

　　 With no allaying Thames，

　　 Our careless heads with roses bound，

　　 Our hearts with loyal flames；

　　 When thirsty grief in wine we steep，

　　 When healths and draughts go free，

　　 Fishes， that tipple in the deep，

　　 Know no such liberty.

　　 When， like committed linnets， I

　　 With shriller throat shall sing

　　 The sweetness， mercy， majesty，

　　 And glories of my King；

　　 When I shall voice aloud how good

　　 He is， how great should be，

　　 Enlargéd winds， that curl the flood，

　　 Know no such liberty.

　　 Stone walls do not a prison make，

　　 Nor iron bars a cage；

　　 Minds innocent and quiet take

　　 That for a hermitage.

　　 If I have freedom in my love，

　　 And in my soul am free，

　　 Angels alone， that soar above，

　　 Enjoy such liberty.

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