The Little Review (littlereview) wrote,
The Little Review

Poem for Wednesday and Finally Daffodils!

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 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.


Tuesday was absolutely gorgeous, just under 70 degrees, sunny, breezy, a perfect spring day. And I didn't fall victim to a single April Fools joke, though for a few seconds both the one about Netflix bringing back Firefly and the one about Supernatural pairing up Dean and Castiel had my attention. The rest of my attention was occupied by Russell Crowe's Twitter feed since he is taking his love-fest all over Europe, as is Hugh Jackman.

I had to get Adam's bike tire fixed, since he wound up with a defective replacement tube, so I did a bit of shopping, and I walked through two different parts of the neighborhood to look at all the daffodils that burst open overnight, plus some crocuses, hyacinths, and forsythia. We watched Agents of SHIELD, which promises HUGE BREAKTHROUGHS every week, snore, then tracked down the Christmas episode of Vicious, which made us howl. Happy April!


  • Poem for Wednesday and Great Falls Cardinals

    The Bird Her Punctual Music Brings By Emily Dickinson The Bird her punctual music brings And lays it in its place— Its place is in the Human…

  • Poem for Tuesday and Carderock

    A wounded Deer – leaps highest – By Emily Dickinson A wounded Deer – leaps highest – I've heard the Hunter tell – 'Tis but the ecstasy of death…

  • Poem for Monday and Great Falls Sunday

    The Daisy Follows Soft The Sun By Emily Dickinson The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet—…

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded