The Promise of Daffodils

The Daffodils in our backyard are poking their little green noses out

of the soil.

From this viewpoint the little sprouts look like green mouths with tiny green tongues!

Winter doesn't last long in southern California. Sure, we still have some rainy days ahead and ten weeks or so of chilly nights. But those of you buried under snow wouldn't quite equate that to what passes for winter in your neck of the woods!

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.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

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