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.
hills,
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of the 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.
by William Wordsworth
ADDITIONAL POET'S CORNERS:
January, 1997
"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost
December, 1996
"Wintering Rosarians" by Gail Lemnah Barnett
November, 1996
"'Tis the Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore
October, 1996
"Autumn Chant" by Edna St. Vincent Millay
September, 1996
"The Fish" by Elizabeth Bishop
August, 1996
"Departmental" by Robert Frost
July, 1996
"City Flies" by Alan Van Dine
June, 1996
"My Neighbor's Roses" by A.L. Gruber