Page:Essays - Abraham Cowley (1886).djvu/41

 Ah, cruel guards, which this poor prisoner keep,
 * Will they not suffer him to sleep!

Make an escape; out at the postern flee, And get some blessed hours of liberty. With a few friends, and a few dishes dine,
 * And much of mirth and moderate wine;

To thy bent mind some relaxation give, And steal one day out of thy life to live. Oh happy man, he cries, to whom kind Heaven
 * Has such a freedom always given!

Why, mighty madman, what should hinder thee
 * From being every day as free?

In all the freeborn nations of the air, Never did bird a spirit so mean and sordid bear As to exchange his native liberty Of soaring boldly up into the sky, His liberty to sing, to perch, or fly When, and wherever he thought good, And all his innocent pleasures of the wood, For a more plentiful or constant food.