Daffodils

The daffodils are blooming-halloo, hallay! (ha-to my Cleveland friends, enshrouded in a wet, gray blanket till June. )

In honor of such a glorious miracle of spring, a poem. Never fear-I didn't make it up. I'm not that smart.

The Daffodils, by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely, as a cloud
Which floats on high, o'er vales and hills.
When all at once, I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils.

Beside the lakes, 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 spritely 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.


Not too bad, considering that I memorized that in eighth grade, for Mrs Shilling's infamous honors language arts class. I can still recite the prepositions, helping verbs and linking verb lists too...What a class that was! Richie Thomas, Mike Maag and Rich Gombach just about drove Mrs Shilling over the edge, I think. Poor woman. But it was a great class-we had a blast, and learned some english along the way, too.