daffodils, poetry and napping nephews

The 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:
The thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly 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.

When I first read this poem, I thrilled at Wordsworth’s characterization of “…that inward eye/Which is the bliss of solitude.” He puts it so well. I think that “inward eye” may also be “the bliss of”:

  • long quiet car rides,
  • the calm that settled on the house when my nephew fell asleep for his nap yesterday, and
  • a cup of coffee or hot tea in the morning.

Oh, and autumn… the whole, entire season of autumn.

(This poem is in the public domain.)

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