Early lost manuscript

First Draft

I sauntered solitary as stratus
That bobs above the dales and dells,
When lo I spied a gaggle,
A mob, of flaxen daffodil;
Beside the lake, a’neath the arbour,
Skittering and prancing in the zephyr.

For ever as the stars that shimmer
And sparkle in the firmament,
They spread their eternal stripe
Along the edges of the cove:
A multitude I spied at a glance,
Flouncing their crowns in flitting dance.

The surf beside them span; but they
Out-shone the twinkling waves with ease:
A bard could not be more at peace,
In such an amiable assembly:
I stared--and stared--but little thought
What riches that the vista wrought:

For often when at leisure lie
In drowsy pensive reverie ,
They blink into that blind mind’s eye
Which is the joy of privacy;
And lo my soul with rapture swells,
And dances with the daffodils.