William Wordsworth

A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
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Sad fancies do we then affect,
In luxury of disrespect
To our own prodigal excess
Of too familiar happiness.

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the read more

For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

How blessings brighten as they take their flight.

There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
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There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore.