William Wordsworth - Prefatory Sonnet (Nuns fret not) lyrics

Nuns fret not at their Convent's narrow room; And Hermits are contented in their Cells; And Students in their pensive Citadels; Maids at the Wheel, the Weaver at his Loom, Sit blithe and happy; Bees that soar for bloom, Higher than the highest Peak of Furness fells Will murmur by the hour in Foxglove bells: In truth, this prison, into which we doom Ourselves, no prison is: and hence for me, In sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be bound Within the Sonnet's scanty plot of ground: Pleas'd 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.