"Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils."
"Two voices are there: one is of the deep; It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody, Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea, Now bird-like pipes, now closes soft in sleep: And one is of an old half-witted sheep Which bleats articulate monotony, And indicates that two and one are three, That grass is green, lakes damp, and mountains steep And, Wordsworth, both are thine."
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Source: William Wordsworth (1954). “The prelude: with a selection from the shorter poems, the sonnets, The recluse, and The excursion, and three essays on the art of poetry”, Harcourt College Pub
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"one daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures, then one is too few."
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