Dancing with the Daffodils (Well, except for Lia in this picture. She was – you guessed it – cold out there!)

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by William Wordsworth


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 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.