“I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”

“I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”

(Last verse)

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

(1770–1850.)

London: Macmillan and Co., 1888.

Why hath time left us such constraints?

Too many beauties entice such endless fields,

Yet adjacent to what we call sky we are awaited by saints,

My mistress generous in the seed which she yields;

Another breed whose smell is bound to lessen my our unfair taint,

The most lucid journey remains ever so faint.