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   English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
 
238. To Althea from Prison
 
Richard Lovelace (1618–1658)
 
 
WHEN Love with unconfinèd wings
  Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
  To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair        5
  And fetter’d to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
  Know no such liberty.
 
When flowing cups run swiftly round
  With no allaying Thames,        10
Our careless heads with roses crown’d,
  Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirsty grief in wine we steep,
  When healths and draughts go free—
Fishes that tipple in the deep        15
  Know no such liberty.
 
When, linnet-like confinèd I
  With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty
  And glories of my King;        20
When I shall voice aloud how good
  He is, how great should be,
Enlargèd winds, that curl the flood,
  Know no such liberty.
 
Stone walls do not a prison make,        25
  Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
  That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love
  And in my soul am free,        30
Angels alone, that soar above,
  Enjoy such liberty.
 

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