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.
By William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
When I saw a huge spread of daffodils on a hillside in the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens, I thought of, and appreciated, this poem. My heart actually did leap up with joy, at least for the moment, as prescribed by the poet.
I must admit that they do not flash upon my inward eye in solitude. I am always deflected by thoughts of what's for dinner, or the need to pay some bills.
Still, it's a very suitable poem for National Poetry Day, this April.