The Caged Bird

Little freedom, little worry.

As long as I did range abroad, and had my liberty,
I kept silent, led a somber life, and was void of melody:
But now that I in prison be within these bounds confined,
Having found my tongue I sing all day, for joy now fills my mind.

I laugh, I play, and I'm clean here sitting in my cage,
I have no worries, have plenty to eat, and nothing makes me rage;
Oh, sweet captivity, a rather pleasant force,
It's only a minor thing to me;
However the troubles that you must see
I suspect are infinitely worse!

Freedom has more to do with
the spirit than the body.

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Eternal Spirit of the chainless Mind!
Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,
For there thy habitation is the heart -
The heart which love of thee alone can bind:
And when thy sons to fetters are consigned -
To fetters, and the damp vault's dayless gloom,
Their country conquers with their martyrdom,
And Freedom's fame finds wings on every wind.
- George Gordon, Lord Byron, from "Sonnet on Chillon"

Where the Spirit of the Lord is,
there is liberty. - 2 Cor. 3:17