farkas
Junior Member
Posts: 85
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Post by farkas on Nov 3, 2008 19:20:36 GMT
William Wordsworth. 1770–1850 Daffodils 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: I gazed—and gazed—but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: 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. One of my favorites
Farkas1
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Post by paintedlady on Nov 11, 2008 18:26:19 GMT
One of mine too Farcas as I love the Spring, I wonder if Alan could find us a Wordsworth recital in the Historical readings, I think they are amazing to listen to.
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Post by cpdhuet on Nov 11, 2008 23:07:05 GMT
;D ;D A real classic remembered by most of us from our school days. A recital would be great. CPD
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Post by william on Nov 12, 2008 18:09:43 GMT
A recital may be difficult as Wordsworth died in 1850 and the first known recording wasn't made until 1857, sorry to give you bad news. william
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Post by cpdhuet on Nov 13, 2008 14:44:02 GMT
William,perhaps someone with a great voice (like Roland or Alan (count me out) could do a recital of this great poem. After all, we were required to do it in school. Claude
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Post by kuranui on Jul 11, 2009 0:08:37 GMT
My all-time favourite.
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Post by norma on Feb 23, 2010 16:14:25 GMT
One of mine also Eunice. Daffodil time is fast approaching, and always makes me think of WW and this poem. A few years ago, we visited Rydal Mount, one of William Wordsworth's homes in the Lake District. Behind the house is a huge sloping field known as Dora's field. Dora was his daughter who died of consumption. The field is full of daffodils, planted by William and his wife. We were a little late for the daffodils, but were delighted to find the field was a sea of bluebells. A stunning sight.
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