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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408461" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>An Essay on Death and a Prison</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A prison is in all things like a grave, <br>Where we no better priviledges have <br>Then dead men, nor so good. The soul once fled <br>Lives freer now, then when she was cloystered <br>In walls of flesh; and though she organs want <br>To act her swift designs, yet all will grant <br>Her faculties more clear, now separate, <br>Then if the same conjunction, which of late <br>Did marry her to earth, had stood in force, <br>Uncapable of death, or of divorce: <br>But an imprison'd mind, though living, dies, <br>And at one time feels two captivities; <br>A narrow dungeon which her body holds, <br>But narrower body which her self enfolds. <br>Whil'st I in prison ly, nothing is free, <br>Nothing enlarg'd but thought and miserie; <br>Though e'ry chink be stopt, the doors close barr'd, <br>Despight of walls and locks, through e'ry ward <br>These have their issues forth; may take the aire, <br>Though not for health, but onely to compare <br>How wretched those men are who freedom want, <br>By such as never suffer'd a restraint. <br>In which unquiet travel could I find <br>Ought that might settle my distemper'd mind, <br>Or of some comfort make discovery <br>It were a voyage well imploy'd: but I, <br>Like our raw travellers that cross the seas <br>To fetch home fashions or some worse disease, <br>Instead of quiet a new torture bring <br>Home t'afflict me, malice and murmuring. <br>What is't I envy not? no dog nor fly <br>But my desires prefer, and wish were I; <br>For they are free, or if they were like me, <br>They had no sense to know calamitie. <br>But in the grave no sparks of envy live, <br>No hot comparisons that causes give <br>Of quarrel, or that our affections move <br>Any condition, save their own, to love. <br>There are no objects there but shades and night, <br>And yet that darkness better then the light. <br>There lives a silent harmony, no jar <br>Or discord can that sweet soft consort mar. <br>The graves deaf ear is clos'd against all noise <br>Save that which rocks must hear, the angels voice: <br>Whose trump shall wake the world, and raise up men <br>Who in earths bosom slept, bed-rid till then. <br>What man then would, who on deaths pillow slumbers, <br>Be re-inspir'd with life, though golden numbers <br>Of bliss were pour'd into his breast; though he <br>Were sure in change to gain a Monarchie? <br>A Monarchs glorious state compar'd with his, <br>Less safe, less free, less firm, less quiet is. <br>For nere was any Prince advanc't so high <br>That he was out of reach of misery: <br>Never did story yet a law report <br>To banish fate or sorrow from his Court; <br>Where ere he moves by land, or through the Main, <br>These go along sworn members of his train. <br>But he whom the kind earth hath entertain'd, <br>Hath in her womb a sanctuary gain'd, <br>Whose charter and protection arm him so, <br>That he is priviledg'd from future woe. <br>The Coffin's a safe harbour, where he rides <br>Land-bound, below cross windes, or churlish tides. <br>For grief, sprung up with life, was mans half-brother<br>Fed by the taste, brought forth by sin, the mother. <br>And since the first seduction of the wife, <br>God did decree to grief a lease for life; <br>Which Patent in full force continue must, <br>Till man that disobey'd revert to dust. <br>So that lifes sorrows ratifi'd by God <br>Cannot expire, or find their period, <br>Until the soul and body disunite, <br>And by two diff'rent wayes from each take flight. <br>But they dissolved once our woes disband, <br>Th' assurance cancell'd by one fatall hand; <br>Soon as the passing bell proclaims me dead, <br>My sorrows sink with me, lye buried <br>In the same heap of dust, the self-same Urn <br>Doth them and me alike to nothing turn. <br>If then of these I might election make <br>Whether I would refuse, and whether take, <br>Rather then like a sullen Anchorite <br>I would live cas'd in stone, and learn to write <br>A Prisoners story, which might steal some tears <br>From the sad eyes of him that reads or hears; <br>Give me a peaceful death, and let me meet <br>My freedom seal'd up in my winding sheet. <br>Death is the pledge of rest, and with one bayl <br>Two Prisons quits, the Body and the Jayl.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+King">Henry King</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408461" data-title="An Essay on Death and a Prison de Henry King" data-description="A prison is in all things like a grave, 
Where we no better priviledges have 
Then dead men, nor so good. The soul once fled 
Lives freer now, then when she was cloystered 
In walls of flesh; and though she organs want 
To act her swift designs, y..."></div>
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