Chapter 20

Could I but ride indefinite, As doth the meadow-bee, And visit only where I liked, And no man visit me,

And flirt all day with buttercups, And marry whom I may, And dwell a little everywhere, Or better, run away

With no police to follow, Or chase me if I do, Till I should jump peninsulas To get away from you, —

I said, but just to be a bee Upon a raft of air, And row in nowhere all day long, And anchor off the bar,— What liberty! So captives deem Who tight in dungeons are.