Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage; Minds innocent and quiet take That for a hermitage; If I have freedom in my love, And in my soul am free; Angels along that soar above, Enjoy such liberty.

-Lovelace, Richard
  Lucasta,'To  Althea, from Prison'.

And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.

-Milton,John
c.1631 Il Penseroso, l.167^74.