Let the moon shine on the in thy solitary walk; and let the misty mountain-winds be free to blow against thee.

Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown Are mourned by man, and not by man alone.

Then my heart with pleasure fills And dances with the daffodils.

No motion has she now, no force; she neither hears nor sees; rolled around in earth's diurnal course, with rocks, and stones, and trees.

And you must love him, ere to you He will seem worthy of your love.

And when the stream Which overflowed the soul was passed away, A consciousness remained that it had left Deposited upon the silent shore Of memory images and precious thoughts That shall not die, and cannot be destroyed.

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.