I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

                                  by William Wordsworth

                                                                                                                                                                  I wandered lonely as a cloud

                                                                                          That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               When all at once I saw a crowd,

        A host, of golden daffodils;

                                                                                                       Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

                                                                                                                                                                             Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            Continuous as the stars that shine

                                                                                      And twinkle on the milky way,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                             They stretched in never-ending line

                                                                                                                                                   Along the margin of a bay:

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

                                         Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

                                                                                                                                                     The waves beside them danced; but they

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

                                                              A poet could not but be gay,

                                                                                                                           In such a jocund company:

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          I gazed—and gazed—but little thought

                                                                                                                                                                   What wealth the show to me had brought:

                                                For oft, when on my couch I lie

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                In vacant or in pensive mood,

                    &They flash upon that inward eye

                                                                                                                                                                                                Which is the bliss of solitude;

                                            And then my heart with pleasure fills,

                                                                                                                                    And dances with the daffodils.