Beautiful. Reminds me of this Wordsworth poem:Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent's Narrow RoomNuns fret not at their convent's narrow roomAnd hermits are contented with their cells;And students with their pensive citadels;Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom,Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom,High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells,Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells:In truth the prison, into which we doomOurselves, no prison is: and hence for me,In sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be boundWithin the Sonnet's scanty plot of ground;Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be)Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,Should find brief solace there, as I have found.
gazaneo 
Beautiful. Reminds me of this Wordsworth poem:Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent's Narrow RoomNuns fret not at their convent's narrow roomAnd hermits are contented with their cells;And students with their pensive citadels;Maids at the wheel, the weaver at his loom,Sit blithe and happy; bees that soar for bloom,High as the highest Peak of Furness-fells,Will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells:In truth the prison, into which we doomOurselves, no prison is: and hence for me,In sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be boundWithin the Sonnet's scanty plot of ground;Pleased if some Souls (for such there needs must be)Who have felt the weight of too much liberty,Should find brief solace there, as I have found.