The Pensive prisoner's Apology.  
Directed to his fellow-Prisoners wheresoever, wherein he adviseth them to be steadfast in faith and hope, and patiently to endure their careful Imprisonment, and to keep their Vows, showing the way to true Liberty.  
To the Tune of, Love with unconfined Wings.  
LOve with unconfined wings  
hovers about my gates,  
And my divine Althema begins  
to whisper at my grates,  
When I lie tangled in her hair  
being fettered in her etc,  
The birds that wanton in the Air  
knows no such liberty.  
When like contented Limits I  
with silver notes will sing:  
The very meekness of the heart,  
and glory of the thing,  
When I shall noise abroad and spread  
how good their virtues be,  
Fishes that ripple in the deep.  
knows no such liberty.  
My lodging is on the cold boards,  
my clothes are thin and bare:  
False hearted friends with flattering words  
doth seek me to ensnare,  
They counsel me to change my mind,  
and so my words deny:  
And I thereby shall surely find,  
a perfect liberty.  
Faith, hope and patience is my guide,  
my conscience pure and clear:  
So that the Lord be on my side,  
what for need I to fear.  
I neither fear the stroke of death,  
nor tyrant's villainy,  
So soon as Christ receives my breath  
I gain true liberty.  
A faithful now I once did make,  
which now I will maintain:  
Whilst I have tongue and breath to speak  
and life in me remain.  
Rather than from Religion turn  
in flery flames to try;  
And if my corpse to ashes burn,  
my soul gains liberty,  
Patience makes plasters for my sores  
love lives without control  
They lock my body within the doors  
but cannot lock my soul.  
My muses to and fro doth run.  
above and beneath the Sky:  
The greatest Potentates under the Sun  
oft wants such liberty.  
Our keeper's cruelty is great,  
to one and to us all,  
He bids us eat our flesh for meat,  
or stones thats in the wall.  
Yet though I am in prison cast,  
my senses mount on high,  
The wind that bloweth where it lift  
knows no such liberty.  
'Tis neither pardon from the Pope  
nor prayers made to Saints,  
That can enlarge my further scope,  
nor shorten my complaints,  
'Tis Christ above, the Lord of love  
which for mankind did die:  
None but he can pardon me,  
nor work my liberty.  
there's many men hath treasure store  
yet are so worldly vent,  
Having too much they scrape for more  
yet never are content  
Whilst I that am the poorest of all  
from worldly care am free;  
Which makes me think they live in thrall  
and I have liberty.  
The man that bears a wavering mind  
is subject to much we,  
He that to anger is suclined,  
must sorrow undergo,  
But he that hath a patient heart,  
though he a prisoner be,  
Exceeds both nature, skill, and art,  
In point of liberty.  
You pensive prisoners every one,  
with hearts loyal and true,  
These lines of mine to work upon,  
I dedicate to you.  
Let faith and patience be your guides  
and you in time shall see,  
The powers of heaven will so provide  
you shall have liberty.  
Stone walls cannot a prison make,  
nor from bars a cage.  
A spotless soul being innocent,  
calls that its hermitage.  
So I am blameless in my choice,  
and from these troubles free,  
Angels alone that are above,  
Enjoys such liberty.  
FINIS.