C. S. Lewis - The Prudent Jailer lyrics

Always the old nostalgia? Yes. We still remember times before We had learned to wear the prison dress Or steel rings rubbed our ankles sore. Escapists? Yes. Looking at bars And chains, we think of files; and then Of black nights without moon or stars And luck befriending hunted men. Still when we hear the trains at night We envy the free travelers, whirled In how few moments past the sight Of the blind wall that bounds our world. Our Jailer (well may he) prefers Our thoughts should keep a narrower range. ‘The proper study of prisoners is prison', he tells us. Is it strange? And if old freedom in our glance Betrays itself, he calls it names 'Dope'-'Wishful thinking'-or 'Romance', Till tireless propaganda tames. All but the strong whose hearts they break, All but the few whose faith is whole. Some walls cannot a prison make Half so secure as rigmarole.