DAFFODIL. 
Like to the summer’s rain, 
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew, 
Ne’er to be found again. 
DAFFODILS, 
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 in 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 
Outdid 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. 


