102 WILD FLOWERS OF 



described such a sight among the romantic scenery of 

 the Lakes : 



" I wander'd 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 stretch'd 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 gaz'd and gaz'd but little thought 



What wealth to me the show had brought ; 



For oft when on my couch I lie, 



In vacant or in pensive mood, 



They flash upon that inward eye 



That is the bliss of solitude, 



And then my heart with pleasure fills, 



And dances with the Daffodils." 



Such a prospect can, however, only reward the 

 untiring botanist, who is not afraid to bivouac upon 

 the green though chill turf, and wash down his sand- 

 wich with a draught from the pattering rill that 

 splashes down the mossy rock, But whoever dares 

 " look out" at all now without the precinct of the 

 suburban garden, is sure to be gladdened with one 

 bright gleam of vegetable beauty, upon the margin of 



