by William Wordsworth

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 leaves in glee

A poet could not be but 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