Here’s the final stanza from To Althea, from Prison by Richard Lovelace.
I’m not even giving a source because I know this bit by heart (but not so much the complete poem).
Stone Walls do not a Prison make,Nor Iron bars a Cage;Minds innocent and quiet takeThat for an Hermitage.If I have freedom in my Love,And in my soul am free,Angels alone that soar above,Enjoy such Liberty.
I just love this, taking it literally, even though I don’t believe in angels…
So, do stone walls a prison make? What do you think?
If you want to read to whole poem and a detailed analysis about it, I found that The Guardian had covered it as their Poem of the Week back in September 2013.