Stone walls do not a prison make, 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, Angels alone that soar above Enjoy such liberty.
We spent them not in toys, in lusts, or wine, But search of deep philosophy, Wit, eloquence, and poetry; Arts which I lovd, for they, my friend, were thine.
The thirsty earth soaks up the rain, And drinks, and gapes for drink again; The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair.
Fill all the glasses there, for why Should every creature drink but I? Why, man of morals, tell me why?
From Anacreon, ii. Drinking.
Note 1. For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight, He cant be wrong whose life is in the right. Alexander Pope: Essay on Man, epilogue iii. line 303. [back]