Whilst I in prison lie, nothing is free,
Nothing enlarg'd, but thought and misery;
Though every chink be stopp'd, the doors close barr'd,
Despite of walls and locks, through every ward
These have their issues forth; may take the air,
20Though not for health, but only to compare
How wretched those men are who freedom want,
By such as never suffer'd a restraint.
In which unquiet travel could I find
Aught that might settle my distemper'd mind,