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Poetry Readings

We look to poets for healing, recovery, and rejuvenation.

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Edward Capern | An Autumn Invitation

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04:11

An Autumn Invitation

Edward Capern was a British poet known for his unique blend of Romanticism and realism in his work. Born in 1819, Capern was raised in a rural environment, surrounded by the natural beauty of the English countryside. This experience shaped his sensibility and would become a central theme in his poetry, as he sought to capture the essence of nature and the rural way of life.

Capern was an admirer of the Romantic poets, such as William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, but he also drew inspiration from the works of John Clare, a contemporary poet known for his depictions of rural life. Capern's own poetry reflects this influence, as he wrote about the beauty and simplicity of rural life, often in a nostalgic and sentimental tone. He was particularly interested in the natural world and wrote about the changing seasons, the beauty of the countryside, and the night sky.

We’ll listen to a poem Capern wrote about Autumn, but first, let’s spend a moment talking about one of the best parts of Fall—the changing colors of leaves. Why do tree leaves change color?

As the days grow shorter and temperatures begin to drop, trees start to withdraw nutrients from their leaves, in preparation for winter dormancy. This process causes the chlorophyll, which is responsible for giving leaves their green color, to break down. As the chlorophyll breaks down, the yellow and orange pigments in the leaves become more visible, giving the leaves their characteristic autumn hues.

The reason why leaves change color is not only due to the breakdown of chlorophyll, but also to the production of other pigments, such as carotenoids and anthocyanins. These pigments provide the brilliant red, orange, and yellow hues that are so characteristic of fall foliage. Some scientists believe that the production of these pigments is the tree's way of protecting itself from damage from the sun's rays during the winter months. Additionally, the bright colors of fall leaves may also serve as a way to attract animals to eat the fruit produced by the tree, thus aiding in seed dispersal and ensuring the continuation of the tree species.

Regardless of the exact reasons, the changing colors of fall leaves is one of the most awe-inspiring annual performances.

Let’s read “An Autumn Invitation,” from Capern’s collection, Poems, and imagine a beautiful autumn walk in Capern’s English countryside.


An Autumn Invitation

Come out into the woodlands, love,
Before the trees are bare;
The woodlark singeth on the hill
His sweetly mellow air.

A smile is seen on Autumn’s cheek,
As one who hath a store;
The bees are in the ivy-bloom,
Above the abbey door.

Come out, before the dark days come,
With blasts and heavy rains:
Come out, before the winter binds
The earth in icy chains

The air is soft as eider-down;
And brown October’s eye
Is looking out to woo thee forth
Beneath its sapphire sky.

Bliss Carman | At Sunrise

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02:56

At Sunrise

Bliss Carman was a Canadian poet born in 1861, in Fredericton, New Brunswick, but who spent most of his life living in the United States.

Carman attended university in Fredericton and later in Scotland, where he studied at the University of Edinburgh.

Carman’s formal verse explores spiritual and natural themes. His breakthrough book was a collaboration with American poet Richard Hovey titled Songs of Vagabondia, published in 1894. It was an immediate success. Vagabondia would be reprinted multiple times over the next 30 years, giving the two writers a newly-found following. The success of Vagabondia then prompted more interest in the previously published Low Tide on Grand Pré, which was published in 1893. In all, Carman was the author of over 50 volumes of poetry. Other notable works include Over the Wintry Threshold, published in 1913, Later Poems in 1926, as well as four essay collections, including Talks on Poetry and Life in 1926.

Carman's poetry was characterized by its romanticism, beauty, and simplicity. His work was widely read and appreciated in Canada and the United States. Carman's poems often celebrated nature and the beauty of the natural world, and he was known for his ability to capture the essence of the Canadian landscape.

Let’s read “At Sunrise,” and imagine an early morning.

At Sunrise

Now the stars have faded
In the purple chill,
Lo, the sun is kindling
On the eastern hill.
Tree by tree the forest
Takes the golden tinge,
As the shafts of glory
Pierce the summit's fringe.
Rock by rock the ledges
Take the rosy sheen,
As the tide of splendor
Floods the dark ravine.
Like a shining angel
At my cabin door,
Shod with hope and silence,
Day is come once more.
Then, as if in sorrow
That you are not here,
All his magic beauties
Gray and disappear.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning | The Best Thing in the World

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03:03

The Best Thing in the World

Elizabeth Barrett Browning was an English poet of the Romantic era, born in 1806. She was born in Durham, England, to a wealthy family and received a rigorous education at home, which instilled in her a love for literature, especially the works of Shakespeare, Wordsworth, and Byron. At the age of 15, she suffered a spinal injury from a riding accident that left her bedridden for the rest of her life. Despite these challenges, she continued to write, and her first collection of poems, An Essay on Mind, with Other Poems, was published in 1826.

In 1844, Elizabeth's collection Poems was published to favorable reviews, bringing her considerable fame and attracting the attention of another prominent poet, Robert Browning. The two began a correspondence, which eventually led to their marriage in 1846. The couple lived in Italy, where Elizabeth was introduced to the country's art, culture, and politics, which had a profound influence on her writing. She wrote some of her most famous works while living in Italy, including Sonnets from the Portuguese in 1850 and Aurora Leigh in 1856.

Sonnets from the Portuguese is a collection of 44 sonnets that tell the story of Elizabeth's courtship and marriage to Robert Browning. The poems are noted for their emotional intensity, musicality, and imaginative power and are considered some of the greatest love poems in the English language. Aurora Leigh, a narrative novel in verse, is a fictional autobiography that explores themes of love, feminist and social issues, and the relationship between art and society.

“The Best Thing in the World” is one of her poems published in the Sonnets from the Portuguese collection in 1850.

Let’s read the poem and when you're done, think about what you feel is the best thing in the world.

The Best Thing in the World

WHAT'S the best thing in the world ?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Light, that never makes you wink;
Memory, that gives no pain;
Love, when, so, you're loved again.
What's the best thing in the world ?
— Something out of it, I think.

Emily Pauline Johnson | The Homing Bee

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03:15

The Homing Bee

Emily Pauline Johnson was born in 1861, on the Six Nations Reserve, in Canada West (now known as Ontario), as the fourth and youngest child of George Henry Martin Johnson, a Mohawk who was both a hereditary and elected chief of the Six Nations, and Emily Susanna Howells, an English-born Canadian from Bristol. Despite limited formal education in her youth, Johnson developed a passion for poetry from a young age, with early influences from great poets such as Lord Byron, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and William Shakespeare.

Throughout her lifetime, Emily Pauline Johnson produced a remarkable 165 poems. Her works first appeared in prestigious publications such as the Globe, a newspaper based in Toronto, and Gems of Poetry, a literary magazine based in New York. In the latter, she had the privilege of publishing five of her poems between 1883 and 1885.

Johnson's poetic talent was further recognized through the publication of three collections of poetry, The White Wampum, Canadian Born, and Flint and Feather.

In addition to her passion for poetry, Johnson was also a talented performer and journalist, often performing under her paternal grandfather’s Mohawk name, Tekahionwake. Her writing skills extended beyond poetry as she published three volumes of stories and journalism, including The Moccasin Maker, The Shagganappi, and Legends of Vancouver. Her writing often reflected the perspectives and experiences of the Mohawk people, but she also showcased the voices of other indigenous communities throughout North America, particularly those from Western Canada.

Let’s read “The Homing Bee” while imagining the brilliant colors of gold striped across a bee’s body.


The Homing Bee

You are belted with gold, little brother of mine,
     Yellow gold, like the sun
That spills in the west, as a chalice of wine
     When feasting is done.

You are gossamer-winged, little brother of mine,
     Tissue winged, like the mist
That broods where the marshes melt into a line
     Of vapour sun-kissed.

You are laden with sweets, little brother of mine,
     Flower sweets, like the touch
Of hands we have longed for, of arms that entwine,
     Of lips that love much.

You are better than I, little brother of mine,
     Than I, human-souled,
For you bring from the blossoms and red summer shine,
     For others, your gold.

James Weldon Johnson | Deep in the Quiet Wood

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03:32

Deep in the Quiet Wood

James Weldon Johnson was a celebrated poet and writer known for his powerful and inspiring works that captured the essence of the African American experience. Born in 1871, in Jacksonville, Florida, he spent his life using his words to evoke change and bring hope to those around him.

As a young man, Johnson was drawn to the arts, studying music and literature and eventually becoming a teacher and writer. He was an accomplished songwriter, penning the lyrics to the beloved song "Lift Every Voice and Sing," written by James Weldon Johnson and set to music by his brother John Rosamond Johnson. It was first performed in 1900 as a tribute to Abraham Lincoln on his birthday. An expression of hope and determination, the lyrics encourage listeners to "Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us."

In addition to his work as a musician, Johnson was also a celebrated poet, using his words to inspire and uplift those around him. His poems celebrated the beauty and resilience of the human spirit, and they served as a beacon of hope during some of the darkest times in American history.

Throughout his career, he tackled a wide range of subjects, from love and nature to the larger political and social issues of his time. His work was characterized by its deep sense of empathy and compassion, making him a powerful voice for the marginalized and oppressed.

Throughout his life, Johnson remained steadfast in his commitment to justice and equality. His passion for the arts and his commitment to social justice inspired and empowered those around him. He was a true visionary, a man who believed in the power of words and actions to create a better world.

Let’s read his poem, “Deep in the Quiet Wood.”

Deep in the Quiet Wood

Are you bowed down in heart?
Do you but hear the clashing discords and the din of life?
Then come away, come to the peaceful wood,
Here bathe your soul in silence. Listen! Now,
From out the palpitating solitude
Do you not catch, yet faint, elusive strains?
They are above, around, within you, everywhere.
Silently listen! Clear, and still more clear, they come.
They bubble up in rippling notes, and swell in singing tones.
Now let your soul run the whole gamut of the wondrous scale
Until, responsive to the tonic chord,
It touches the diapason of God’s grand cathedral organ,
Filling earth for you with heavenly peace
And holy harmonies.

John Keats | To Autumn

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05:18

To Autumn

John Keats was an English poet who lived from 1795 to 1821. He is considered one of the greatest poets of the Romantic era—a time when artists and writers sought to express intense feelings and a love of nature through their work.

Despite poverty and illness, Keats wrote some of the most beloved poems in English literature, inspiring generations of poets and artists. Some of his most revered works include “Ode to a Nightingale,” “Endymion,” and “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” His poetry is admired for its beauty, emotion, and imaginative descriptions of the natural world.

In 1819, John Keats wrote “To Autumn” as an ode to the season that brings fruition, abundance, and transience.

Through his symbolism, Keats captured the beauty and majesty of nature while also reflecting on the idea of change and the passage of time. He describes the various aspects of autumn—from fruit ripening to the changing of leaves—and conveys a sense of wonder and awe at the power and majesty of the natural world.

Critics have praised "To Autumn" as a masterpiece of English Romantic poetry. Many have admired Keats's ability to bring the beauty and abundance of autumn to life through his use of vivid imagery, musical language, and rich sensory detail. His focus on the cycle of nature and the passage of time has also been widely praised, as Keats conveys both a sense of transience and a deep reverence for the natural world.

"To Autumn" is widely regarded as one of Keats's greatest poems and a touchstone of English Romanticism.

To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
  Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
  With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
  And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
     To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
  With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
     For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
  Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
  Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
  Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
     Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
  Steady thy laden head across a brook;
  Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
     Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
  Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
  And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
  Among the river sallows, borne aloft
     Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
  Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
  The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
     And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

Thomas Moore | I Saw the Moon Rise Clear

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02:48

I Saw the Moon Rise Clear

Thomas Moore was an Irish poet, singer, and songwriter born in Dublin in 1779. He became one of the most famous poets of the Romantic era and is remembered for his lyrical and melancholic poetry that often celebrated the beauty of his homeland.

Moore began writing as a young man and was encouraged by his family and friends to continue.  Throughout the first half of the 19th century, Moore published extensively and established his place in the literary world. Many of his collections—such as Irish Melodies, National Airs, and Lalla Rookh—gained him praise from critics and readers for his poetic and lyrical talent.

One of Moore’s poems, “I Saw the Moon Rise Clear,” describes the beauty of the moon rising in the night sky and its ability to invoke feelings of peace, solitude, and wonder. The moon is portrayed as a magical and mysterious symbol of the natural world. Its rise is seen as a reminder of the beauty and majesty of the universe.

In the poem, the moon's "gentle light" is described as streaming across the sky, illuminating the world below. The poem’s romantic and lyrical style is full of rich descriptions of the natural world and its many wonders.

"I Saw the Moon Rise Clear" is a beautiful and melancholic poem that speaks to the enduring themes of love, loss, and the passage of time. The poem's vivid imagery and poetic language have made it a popular choice for those who love romantic and nostalgic poetry.

Let’s read it.

I Saw the Moon Rise Clear

A FINLAND LOVE SONG

I SAW the moon rise clear
 O'er hills and vales of snow,
Nor told my fleet reindeer
 The track I wished to go.
Yet quick he bounded forth;
 For well my reindeer knew
I 've but one path on earth—
 The path which leads to you.

The gloom that winter cast
 How soon the heart forgets,
When summer brings, at last,
 Her sun that never sets!
So dawned my love for you;
 So, fixt thro' joy and pain,
Than summer sun more true,
 'T will never set again.

Fernando Pessoa | Sonnet XIX

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03:09

Sonnet XIX

Born in 1888, Fernando Pessoa was a Portuguese poet, writer, and literary critic considered one of the greatest poets of the 20th century. Born in Lisbon, Pessoa was a polyglot and a multifaceted writer who wrote under various heteronyms or literary personas, each with a distinct biography, style, and philosophy.

Pessoa started writing at a young age, and his works span several literary genres, including poetry, fiction, essays, and correspondence. His first book was published in 1918, titled Antinous, followed by 35 Sonnets in 1918, and English Poems in 1921.

Pessoa's most famous publication, Book of Disquiet, is a fragmented collection of poetry and prose that explores themes of identity, solitude, and the human condition. Published 47 years after his death, the book is considered a masterpiece of modernist literature and is regarded as one of the greatest works of Portuguese literature.

In addition to his writing, Pessoa was also a translator, publisher, and literary critic. He translated works by Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Alfred Lord Tennyson into Portuguese, and he was a prolific correspondent, exchanging letters with writers and thinkers from around the world.

Pessoa left behind a vast body of work that was not fully discovered and published until decades later. Today, he is remembered as one of the most innovative and influential poets of the 20th century.

Now, let’s read Pessoa’s “Sonnet XIX,” from his book, 35 Sonnets.

Sonnet XIX

Beauty and love let no one separate,
Whom exact Nature did to each other fit,
Giving to Beauty love as finishing fate
And to Love beauty as true colour of it.
Let he but friend be who the soul finds fair,
But let none love outside the body's thought,
So the seen couple's togetherness shall bear
Truth to the beauty each in the other sought.
I could but love thee out of mockery
Of love and thee and mine own ugliness;
Therefore thy beauty I sing and wish not thee,
Thanking the Gods I long not out of place,
Lest, like a slave that for kings' robes doth long,
Obtained, shall with mere wearing do them wrong.

Sara Teasdale | Driftwood

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02:07

Driftwood

Sara Teasdale was an American poet born on August 8, 1884, in St. Louis, Missouri. She was one of the most popular poets during the early 20th century, known for her lyrical and romantic verse that often explored themes of love, death, and solitude.

We’ll listen to her poem, “Driftwood,” in a moment, but let’s first talk a bit about driftwood.

Driftwood is a piece of wood that has been floating in the water, either in a river, lake, or ocean and has been carried and shaped by the currents and waves over time from the rough and wild waters. This process of being shaped and moved by water often results in it being transformed into a work of art, smoothed and sculpted by the hands of nature. Its twists and turns, knots and grains, are a testament to the beauty that can arise from even the most challenging circumstances. The wood can come from a variety of sources, including trees, logs, branches, and even entire ships that have been shipwrecked.

Each one-of-a-kind piece of driftwood bears the marks of its journey, telling its own story of endurance and survival.

Let’s read “Driftwood” by Sara Teasdale.

Driftwood

My forefathers gave me
My spirit's shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
The letters of my name.

But it was my lovers,
And not my sleeping sires,
Who gave the flame its changeful
And iridescent fires;

As the driftwood burning
Learned its jewelled blaze
From the sea's blue splendor
Of colored nights and days.

Sara Teasdale | PLACES

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07:59

PLACES

Sara Teasdale was an American poet born on August 8, 1884, in St. Louis, Missouri. She was one of the most popular poets during the early 20th century, known for her lyrical and romantic verse that often explored themes of love, death, and solitude.

Teasdale began writing poetry as a young girl and was encouraged by her family and friends to pursue her passion. Published in 1907, her first collection, Sonnets to Duse and Other Poems, was well-received by critics and readers alike. 

In 1917, Teasdale published Love Songs. This collection was praised for its simple, yet profound, expressions of love, loss, and longing and established her as one of the leading voices in American poetry. For this work, Teasdale won the Columbia University Poetry Society Prize (which became the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry) and the Poetry Society of America’s Prize.

During the 1920s and 1930s, Teasdale continued to publish collections of poetry, including Flame and Shadow in 1920, Dark of the Moon in 1926, and Stars To-Night in 1930. These later works were considered some of her best and were praised for literary, artistic, and intellectual growth. 

Sara Teasdale's Flame and Shadow explores themes of love, loss, and the fleeting nature of life. The poems in this collection are characterized by their musicality, introspective nature, and emotional intensity.

Let’s read part of Chapter 2 from Flame and Shadow:

PLACES

PLACES I love come back to me like music,
Hush me and heal me when I am very tired;
I see the oak woods at Saxton's flaming
In a flare of crimson by the frost newly fired;
And I am thirsty for the spring in the valley
As for a kiss ungiven and long desired.
I know a bright world of snowy hills at Boonton,
A blue and white dazzling light on everything one sees,
The ice-covered branches of the hemlocks sparkle
Bending low and tinkling in the sharp thin breeze,
And iridescent crystals fall and crackle on the snow-crust
With the winter sun drawing cold blue shadows from the trees.

Violet now, in veil on veil of evening
The hills across from Cromwell grow dreamy and far;
A wood-thrush is singing soft as a viol
In the heart of the hollow where the dark pools are;
The primrose has opened her pale yellow flowers
And heaven is lighting star after star.

Places I love come back to me like music—
Mid-ocean, midnight, the waves buzz drowsily;
In the ship's deep churning the eerie phosphorescence
Is like the souls of people who were drowned at sea,
And I can hear a man's voice, speaking, hushed, insistent,
At midnight, in mid-ocean, hour on hour to me.

OLD TUNES

AS the waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose,
Float in the garden when no wind blows,
Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows;
So the old tunes float in my mind,
And go from me leaving no trace behind,
Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind.
But in the instant the airs remain
I know the laughter and the pain
Of times that will not come again.
I try to catch at many a tune
Like petals of light fallen from the moon,
Broken and bright on a dark lagoon,
But they float away—for who can hold
Youth, or perfume or the moon's gold?

"ONLY IN SLEEP"

ONLY in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.
Only in sleep Time is forgotten—
What may have come to them, who can know?
Yet we played last night as long ago,
And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair.
The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild—
Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I too a child?

REDBIRDS

REDBIRDS, redbirds,
Long and long ago,
What a honey-call you had
In hills I used to know;
Redbud, buckberry,
Wild plum-tree
And proud river sweeping
Southward to the sea,
Brown and gold in the sun
Sparkling far below,
Trailing stately round her bluffs
Where the poplars grow—
Redbirds, redbirds,
Are you singing still
As you sang one May day
On Saxton's Hill?

SUNSET: ST. LOUIS

HUSHED in the smoky haze of summer sunset,
When I came home again from far-off places,
How many times I saw my western city
Dream by her river.
Then for an hour the water wore a mantle
Of tawny gold and mauve and misted turquoise
Under the tall and darkened arches bearing
Gray, high-flung bridges.
Against the sunset, water-towers and steeples
Flickered with fire up the slope to westward,
And old warehouses poured their purple shadows
Across the levee.
High over them the black train swept with thunder,
Cleaving the city, leaving far beneath it
Wharf-boats moored beside the old side-wheelers
Resting in twilight.

THE COIN

INTO my heart's treasury
I slipped a coin
That time cannot take
Nor a thief purloin,—
Oh better than the minting
Of a gold-crowned king
Is the safe-kept memory
Of a lovely thing.

William Wordsworth | I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

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04:01

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

William Wordsworth is considered to be one of the most influential English poets of the Romantic period. He was born in 1770 in the Lake District of England and became England's Poet Laureate in 1843. Wordsworth was highly regarded for his works that celebrated the beauty of nature, emotion, and the everyday life of ordinary people. His poems have inspired countless other poets and his influence can still be felt in contemporary literature.

William Wordsworth's first home was in the Lake District of England. The Lake District, a picturesque and mountainous region located in the northwest of England, is famous for its stunning natural beauty and is home to a number of picturesque lakes. The region is dotted with small villages, rolling hills, and dramatic peaks, such as Scafell Pike—the highest mountain in England at an elevation of just over 3,200 ft. The Lake District is also known for its rich cultural heritage and its association with the Romantic movement in English literature.

Wordsworth’s love for nature and his experiences in the Lake District are evident in much of his poetry. He is best known for his collection of poems Lyrical Ballads, which he co-wrote with Samuel Taylor Coleridge in 1798 and which is widely considered to be the beginning of the English Romantic movement.

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud," also known as "Daffodils," is one of his most famous poems. Written in 1804, the poem was inspired by an actual event in which Wordsworth and his sister saw a field of daffodils while walking near Ullswater in the Lake District. Wordsworth was struck by the beauty of the daffodils and was inspired to write the poem about the experience.

"I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" was first published in Poems in Two Volumes in 1807 has since become one of Wordsworth's most popular and beloved works and is often considered to be one of the great masterpieces of English poetry. The poem is known for its simple, conversational style, its celebration of nature, and its power to uplift and inspire the human spirit.

Transport yourself with a blanket to a meadow in the English countryside as we listen to the poem.


I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

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.

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