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 on 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
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.

– William Wordsworth (1815)

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