A Host of Golden Daffodils

 

When I was a child, my mother would quote poetry to me my sister and me. At the time I remember thinking that it was terribly old-fashioned, but with the wisdom that comes with maturity, I now realize what a treasure mother's habit was. This was a poem she would recite. It goes so well with the daffodils that I've picked from my garden and put as a focal point on my dining room table. It seems there is something about spring that puts me in the mood for poetry. Pour yourself a cuppa tea and enjoy this verse with me! William Wordsworth. 1770–1850

530. Daffodils

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,	5
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:	10
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,	15
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,	20
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.