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It is like "the vacant interlunar cave" John Milton wrote of in Samson Agonistes.

Hercules then unbinds Prometheus who repairs to a certain exquisite interlunar cave and there dwells in tranquillity with his beloved Asia.

When you die, the silent Moon In her interlunar swoon Is not sadder in her cell Than deserted Ariel:— When you live again on earth, Like an unseen Star of birth Ariel guides you o'er the sea Of life from your nativity:— Many changes have been run Since Ferdinand and you begun Your course of love, and Ariel still Has track'd your steps and served your will.

When the moon is "hid in her vacant interlunar cave," and not a star can "burst its cerements," imagination in the dim blank droops her wings—our thoughts become of the earth earthly—and poetry seems a pastime fit but for fools and children.

In the "vacant interlunar caves" where he hid himself, he could hardly feel the restraints that press on those who move within ear-shot and jostle of their fellows on this actual earth.