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.
This poem was up in my host mom's house in the North, and I'd always been a little biased against it (for silly reasons, really - I guess I'd felt it was cliche). But reading it in that house in Derry made a big impression on me, and I find myself coming back to it often.
On the subject of flowers - my walk to the DART station these days is colorful and bloomy - springtime has truly sprung! I'll have to bring my camera with me one morning and share the view.
Thank you, Wordsworth; thank you, Clara. Enjoy your bloomy days! Gorgeous photo.
ReplyDeleteThis reminds me of a trip to the Lake District that Steve, Sarah, and I took in 2003, shortly before we moved back to the States. It was early April, and the green hillsides were covered in golden daffodils and stunningly white newborn lambs. Very fond memories.
ReplyDeleteWishing you a blessed Easter, Clara!