Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!

The wind, a sightless laborer, whistles at his task.

Controls them and subdues, transmutes, bereaves Of their bad influence, and their good receives.

Huge and mighty forms that do not live like living men, moved slowly through the mind by day and were trouble to my dreams.

Of friends, however humble, scorn not one.

The sunshine is a glorious birth; But yet I know, where'er I go, That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.

I wandered 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.