i wander'd 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 stretch’d 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!

e gaze –and gazed –but little thought

what wealth the show to me had brought