Wednesday, 20 May 2009

• Proof that Poetry isn't dead : )

  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.
  

   

  You've gotta love Wordsworth.

  • 12:30 PM
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