Daffodils
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.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Commentary
Well, it was only a matter of time before this one showed up <g>. It’s certainly one of the most famous poems around1 - however, there is a distressingly common attitude that anything so simple, accessible and popular can’t have much poetic merit.
Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth - in fact, Wordsworth himself said it best:
The majority of the following poems are to be considered as experiments. They were written chiefly with a view to ascertain how far the language of conversation in the middle and lower classes of society is adapted to the purposes of poetic pleasure. Readers accustomed to the gaudiness and inane phraseology of many modern writers, if they persist in reading this book to its conclusion, will perhaps frequently have to struggle with feelings of strangeness and aukwardness: they will look round for poetry, and will be induced to enquire by what species of courtesy these attempts can be permitted to assume that title. It is desirable that such readers, for their own sakes, should not suffer the solitary word Poetry, a word of very disputed meaning, to stand in the way of their gratification …
– Preface To Lyrical Ballads (1798)
http://library.utoronto.ca/www/utel/rp/criticism/lyrb1_il.html
Notes
1. Wordsworth made use of the description in his sister’s diary, as well as
of his memory of the daffodils in Gowbarrow Park, by Ullswater. Cf. Dorothy Wordsworth’s Journal, April 15, 1802: “I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones . . .; some rested their heads upon these stones, as on a pillow for weariness; and the rest tossed and reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, that blew upon them over the lake; they looked so gay, ever glancing, ever changing.”
2. ‘They flash upon that inward eye… ‘: Wordsworth said that these were
the two best lines in the poem and that they were composed by his wife.
– Representative Poetry Online
Biography and Assessment
Wordsworth was born in the Lake District of northern England[...]The
natural scenery of the English lakes could terrify as well as nurture, as
Wordsworth would later testify in the line "I grew up fostered alike by
beauty and by fear," but its generally benign aspect gave the growing boy
the confidence he articulated in one of his first important poems, "Lines
Composed a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey . . . ," namely, "that Nature
never did betray the heart that loved her."
[...]
Wordsworth moved on in 1787 to St. John's College, Cambridge. Repelled by
the competitive pressures there, he elected to idle his way through the
university, persuaded that he "was not for that hour, nor for that place."
The most important thing he did in his college years was to devote his
summer vacation in 1790 to a long walking tour through revolutionary
France. There he was caught up in the passionate enthusiasm that followed
the fall of the Bastille, and became an ardent republican sympathizer.
[...]
The three or four years that followed his return to England were the
darkest of Wordsworth's life. Unprepared for any profession, rootless,
virtually penniless, bitterly hostile to his own country's opposition to
the French, he knocked about London in the company of radicals like
William Godwin and learned to feel a profound sympathy for the abandoned
mothers, beggars, children, vagrants, and victims of England's wars who
began to march through the sombre poems he began writing at this time.
This dark period ended in 1795, when a friend's legacy made possible
Wordsworth's reunion with his beloved sister Dorothy--the two were never
again to live apart--and their move in 1797 to Alfoxden House, near
Bristol. There Wordsworth became friends with a fellow poet, Samuel Taylor
Coleridge, and they formed a partnership that would change both poets'
lives and alter the course of English poetry.
[…]
Through all these years Wordsworth was assailed by vicious and tireless critical attacks by contemptuous reviewers; no great poet has ever had to endure worse. But finally, with the publication of The River Duddon in 1820, the tide began to turn, and by the mid-1830s his reputation had been established with both critics and the reading public.
Wordsworth’s last years were given over partly to “tinkering” his poems, as the family called his compulsive and persistent habit of revising his earlier poems through edition after edition. The Prelude, for instance, went through four distinct manuscript versions (1798-99, 1805-06, 1818-20, and 1832-39) and was published only after the poet’s death in 1850. Most readers find the earliest versions of The Prelude and other heavily revised poems to be the best, but flashes of brilliance can appear in revisions added when the poet was in his seventies.
Wordsworth succeeded his friend Robert Southey as Britain’s poet laureate in 1843 and held that post until his own death in 1850. Thereafter his influence was felt throughout the rest of the 19th century, though he was honoured more for his smaller poems, as singled out by the Victorian critic Matthew Arnold, than for his masterpiece, The Prelude. In the 20th century his reputation was strengthened both by recognition of his importance in the Romantic movement and by an appreciation of the darker elements in his personality and verse.
William Wordsworth was the central figure in the English Romantic revolution in poetry. His contribution to it was threefold. First, he formulated in his poems and his essays a new attitude toward nature. This was more than a matter of introducing nature imagery into his verse; it amounted to a fresh view of the organic relation between man and the natural world, and it culminated in metaphors of a wedding between nature and the human mind, and beyond that, in the sweeping metaphor of nature as emblematic of the mind of God, a mind that “feeds upon infinity” and “broods over the dark abyss.” Second, Wordsworth probed deeply into his own sensibility as he traced, in his finest poem, The Prelude, the “growth of a poet’s mind.” The Prelude was in fact the first long autobiographical poem. Writing it in a drawn-out process of self-exploration, Wordsworth worked his way toward a modern psychological understanding of his own nature, and thus more broadly of human nature. Third, Wordsworth placed poetry at the centre of human experience; in impassioned rhetoric he pronounced poetry to be nothing less than “the first and last of all knowledge–it is as immortal as the heart of man,” and he then went on to create some of the greatest English poetry of his century. It is probably safe to say that by the late 20th century he stood in critical estimation where Coleridge and Arnold had originally placed him, next to John Milton–who stands, of course, next to William Shakespeare.
– EB
— Martin
Show 28 commentsHide comments
From the Wondering Minstrels mailing list, 1999–2008.
Amit Chakrabarti · 15 April 1999
Well! We had to wait until the 63rd poem to see a Wordsworth. And we haven’t seen a Milton yet. And only one Blake. Blah blah.
Ross Cranford · 16 November 1999
Hi.
I’ve been reading up on wordsworth and i can’t seem to peg what he is trying to say in the daffodils. What is his theme for this one?
thanx. angela
freakazo · 3 December 1999
Could almost see the daffodils as described in his poems. But it is kind of a lonely poem, isn’t it?
Beryl Shannon · 17 November 2000
I remember this poem from childhood. It was required at our school in England to memorize it.
I was back in England last spring with a friend and we saw the daffodils in full bloom. Wordworth was right! I have never seen so many blooms in my life! His description came to mind and I will never forget the pure beauty of those flowers. I think one would have to see them to truly appreciate this poem.
WCC_COE01 · 24 February 2001
I love this poem!
meridian · 9 March 2001
it is one of my favourite poems. i hve loved it since school days.i love listening to it in solitude and with my eyes closed!
P Hayward · 28 June 2001
The poem is essentially a comment on the pleasure Wordsworth obtained from solitary contemplation. His use of the word ‘lonely’ would not have the same meaning as ours. His true attitude to being alone is in the line “ The bliss of solitude”
Compare NeW Fast Automatic daffodils by Adrian Henri and On this Island by WH Auden.
also Miracle on St David’s Day
Barbara St. Aubrey · 13 October 2001
Yes, I too had memorized the poem while in 5th grade. I always thought of the poem as a simple poem of yellow gay springtime. Having really looked at the poem something clicked and I have a profound understanding that I had overlooked -
The word ‘DANCE’ is in every stanza - Dance the cosmic creative energy that transforms space into time, is the rhythm of the universe. Round dancing, was a dance that imitated the sun’s course in the heavens and enclosed a sacred space. The round, yellow, golden cups of the daffodil can easily symbolize the sun, the sacred sun of incorruptibile wisdom, superior and noble.
Dancing as the Dance of Siva is the eternal movement of the universe the ‘play’ of creatio, or the ‘fluttering’ frenzy emotional chaos of Dionysian/Bacchic.
The stars, messengers of the gods, the eyes of night, and hope, toss their ‘head,’ the seat of both our intelligence and folly, honor and dishonor.
Lying on a couch in a vacant pensive mood could easily be a way to discribe a meditative state where the forces of the universe and our connection with the ceaseless movement, the ebb and flow of life as a wave dances could be pondered.
That last line “And dances with the Daffodils.” could it be the dance of angels round the throne of God. If this is a poem of the cycle of existence and the circling of the sun/God of course what wealth and glee.
Barb and John Vergunst · 21 October 2001
Dorothy Wordsworth was William’s sister, not his wife. Perhaps you should actually reseach your subject before embarrassing yourself on the web this way.
Winnie Edwards · 25 January 2002
i want to think of the message as one which depicts the power of memory and what joy it can bring in times of contemplation, grief, loneliness.
Amanda Biggs · 25 January 2002
Being welsh i’ve always known this poem but since moving away when feeling home-sick this poem always makes me feel much better so bacically i LUV this poem!!!!!!
GldnGrams · 30 January 2002
Raised in Northern England I too had to learn this poem by heart but over the years had forgotten some of it. You have to see masses of daffodils to appreciate this piece and when I think of some of the lines I recall home (England) fondly. Valerie
Katdancc · 26 February 2002
Barb and John: you have got to be kidding me! Talk about humiliating yourself! the daffodils were written about in Dorothy’s journal … the two lines that are attributed to WW’s wife are in fact written by…now get this…HIS WIFE! No one ever said the two were one in the same….take your hostility and pugnacious pseudo-intellectualism to another board if all you can do is insult people with your INCORRECT comments
Lynda · 17 April 2002
Hi, I thought the title of the poem was the same as the first line, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. You might want to check that out.
Raymond J Dionne · 8 May 2002
Being from the North of England ( Barrow-in-Furness and Whitehaven), I spent many happy hours in the Lake District and after 40 years still get homesick for it. I am very grateful to the teacher who made me learn by heart this beautiful poem. I even have some fun with it with my children, as each Spring whenever I see the first daffodils I immediately start up with, “I wandered lonely as a cloud——–”, accompanied by groans from the family (“Oh no, here she goes again!). I have always made it a point to plant daffodils where ever I’ve lived, so I hope others have enjoyed them also. On reading some of the emails, I don’t know why we feel the need to ‘analyze’ every word written by the poet. I have always imagined WW taking a walk on a beautiful Spring day and seeing everything as described in his poem and envied his ability to put all this in verse. I have to admit I was a bit disappointed to learn that the ideas sprang from his sister and wife. How wonderful to have a poet’s imagination.
Amyfinson · 30 November 2002
this poem is the most touching and moving one i have ever read
John Rich · 15 January 2003
I grew up in Pennsylvania (USA) and my grade school class memorized this poem. It wasn’t until I was grown that I could see the unbridled joy expressed by the author at the simple pleasure of seeing a field of flowers. Here is the true meaning of the cliche “ Stop and smell the roses”. John Rich
Suzynarita Wan · 25 July 2003
Hi,
I simply adore this poem. It is beautiful. I like the way WW utilized the metaphors and similes. “I wondered lonely as a cloud” comparing the loneliness of a man to a cloud drifting through the sky. Then when he saw the rows of daffodils, dancing gleefully in the bright sunshine somehow has made him happy and his heart filled with pleasure, exactly like what I felt whenever I read this poem.
Suzy
SRPIANOPLAYER · 1 September 2003
When I was in a 9th grade English class (many years ago), I prepared an elaborate report on what I thought the poem meant. When I finished, my instructor advised me that I had done a nice write-up, but that the poem was just a nice, relaxing and serene poem about daffodils and that the author didn’t have any message with it. It became one of my favorites because I can read it and just feel good. Sherri
Cox SMTP west · 21 October 2003
Goofy.
Mike Angelastro · 27 March 2005
I read all of the comments and was very surprised that no one mentioned the meaning I received from this beautiful poem.
We often go through life as if we were unconscious of what is going on around us - like clouds. We notice many things some of which are beautiful and some ordinary. But being distracted - not poets, who would naturally notice and be gay at the sight - we fail to be lifted by the simple but awesome beauty that surrounds us. WW was not being a poet at the time and so he “little thought what wealth to him the show had wrought.” He was forced to try to re-experience it from memory - his inward eye - in order to fill his heart with the pleasure he missed when he actually saw the daffodils.
To me, the poem serves as a reminder that our happiness is best served if we live our lives as poets and notice the simple beauty that nature gives us daily. Where ordinary people see flowers, the poet sees stars, dancers, happy celebrations of nature’s miracles and is pleasured. Live as a poet!!!!!
Nicole Ilott · 26 May 2005
i like this poem and i wrote a parody about it!
I flew lonely as a bird,
That flies on high over hills and ploughs,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of purple cows.
They were on the grass and beneath the trees,
Chewing and munching in the breeze.
Continuous as the rainbow that shines,
And twinkles in the sky,
They stretched in never-ending lines,
Oh what fun it is to spy!
On those smelly, greedy, purple cows,
They were all together like friendly pals.
The grass beside them danced; but they,
Began to perform (side by side)
( Each munching a mouthful of hay,)
Doing the “Can Can” (or so they tried!)
I gazed and gazed but little thought,
How had they been taught?!
For often when I’m in my nests,
In vacant or in pensive mood ,
I think upon those silly pests,
And how nosily they mooooed!
As much as I’d like to join in the fun,
I’d rather see than be one!
PinkStar636 · 14 June 2005
toodle ee
RamiroWatson · 4 February 2006
Hey, everybody is saying that Ww wrote this poem, when really it was Edgar (with some of my help).
Hope everybody learn before talking…
Thanks
Henna Shah · 14 July 2006
hey this is cool,
this poem ‘the daffodils ‘ really touches our hearts.its about enjoying the nature’s beauty and admiring it too. i m in the 7th grade in india and i go to a school in mumbai. well, the poet has described his favourite{as he said in his interview} it’ flashes upon that inward eye’ very well. this is what i think of that line-
when the poet lies in a thoughtful or in a solitary mood on his couch. the pretty daffodils flash upon his inward eye. that is he analises the daffodils in his mind.as he is a lovetr of nature. he likes all these stuff. Henna Shah,India.
Margaret S Konikkara · 5 November 2006
i just think the poem is a personification of beauty. and he was clever enough to c beauty
Margaret
Purbeck Court · 24 September 2007
Have loved this from my school days.
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Rabindra Kitchener · 12 January 2008
I was taught this poem as a child , but only when I recently visited the lake district did I appreciated the natural beauty tha t surrounded Woordsworth, that sparked his creative genius as a poet
rabindra kitchener