The Truth is known! you'll harvests reap in Heaven's golden day!
The Mind is the Standard of the Man.
In chains and shackles closely bound;
They say I am a prisoner;
Although in this small cell I'm found,
A prisoner I am not.
The door is made of iron bars,
The lock is large and strong,
But my mind soars free, up to the stars,
As if I'd done no wrong.
The mind of man is ever free,
By nature's law itself,
While this wicked, wretched corpus
May be laid upon the shelf.
What of this wretched body?
What care we for this hand?