For oft, when on my couch I lieIn vacant or in pensive mood,They flash upon that inward eyeWhich is the bliss of solitude;And then my heart with pleasure fills,And dances with the daffodils.
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.
Never to blend our pleasure or our prideWith sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
Never to blend our pleasure or our pride With sorrow of the meanest thing that feels.
... and we shall find A pleasure in the dimness of the stars.
Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.
one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few.
Pleasure is spread through the earth In stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find.