The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
that floats on high over vales and hills
when all at once I saw a crowd
a host of golden daffodils
beside the lake
beneath the trees
dancing and fluttering in the breeze.

I gazed and gazed
and little thought.
A poet could not but be gay
in such a jocund company!

For oft when on my couch I lie
in vacant or in pensive mood
my thoughts want to this image fly
which is the bliss of solitude.

(I bet I quoted some of it wrong.
I memorized it back in 1967.)

Nice poem, William!
Greetings from your sister Dotty :)