Ode upon Liberty, II

’Tis morning, well, I fain would yet sleep on; You cannot now; you must be gone To Court, or to the noisy hail Besides, the rooms without are crowded all; The steam of business does begin, And a springtide of clients is come in. Ah, cruel guards, which this poor prisoner keep, Will they not suffer him to sleep! Make an escape; out at the postern flee, And get some blessed hours of liberty. With a few friends, and a few dishes dine, And much of mirth and moderate wine; To thy bent mind some relaxation give, And steal one day out of thy life to live. Oh happy man, he cries, to whom kind Heaven Has such a freedom always given Why, mighty madman, what should hinder thee