1
I
wandered lonely in a daze,
the
vales and hills a distant blur,
when
all at once I was amazed,
some
daffodils began to stir,
close
to a lake, under the trees,
rocking
and swaying in the breeze.
If
only a poet was passing through
to
describe the scene for me and you.
2
For
oft when on my couch I lie,
in
vacant or in pensive mood,
I
think of stealing Wordsworth's words
but
realise that would be rude.
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