She is as in a field a silken tent <br />At midday when the sunny summer breeze <br />Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent, <br />So that in guys it gently sways at ease, <br />And its supporting central cedar pole, <br />That is its pinnacle to heavenward <br />And signifies the sureness of the soul, <br />Seems to owe naught to any single cord, <br />But strictly held by none, is loosely bound <br />By countless silken ties of love and thought <br />To every thing on earth the compass round, <br />And only by one's going slightly taut <br />In the capriciousness of summer air <br />Is of the slightlest bondage made aware.<br /><br />Robert Frost<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-silken-tent/
