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A PARADOX Against Liberty, Written by the Lords, during their Imprisonment in the Tower.
A Prison, or the Isle, are much the same;
They onely differ in Conceit and Name.
As Art the first, Nature Immures the last;
Onely i'th' larger Mold her Figure's cast.
All Islanders are in a Prison pent,
And none at large, not those o'th' Continent.
Each Mariner's a Prisoner in his Bark.
The living World was prison'd in the Ark.
And though it be abroad adays; the Light
Still lodges in the Prison of black Night.
The Sea it self, is to its bounds confin'd,
And Aeolus in Caves shuts up the wind:
Nothing in nature has such vast Extent,
But is imprison'd in its Element.