i wander'd 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 stretch’d 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!
e gaze –and gazed –but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought