"Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils."
"Science appears but what in truth she is, Not as our glory and our absolute boast, But as a succedaneum, and a prop To our infirmity."
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Source: 'The Prelude' (1850) bk. 2, l. 211
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"one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few."
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