The English Lake District a place of beauty, has inspired and enchanted painters, poets, writers and visitors down through the years but its most well known exponent was William Wordsworth famed for his verse, especially his perception contained in the poem, Daffodils, which paints in the mind’s eye the abundance of the small native variety that flourishes there in the springtime of the year. The following poem was displayed in Wordworth’s birth place, Wordsworth House, Cockermouth, Cumbria, for National Poetry Day 2001.
Steep sided hills, the pointed peaks,
wrestle with the sky;
Spreading oaks and mighty beech
in dales where lakes lie.
Rivers merge in brilliant blend
as silver waters flow;
One can see the beads of stone
when levels settle low.
The Derwent winding onward goes
in never ending quest;
Awe-inspiring the artist’s eye,
it canters to the west.
A man of valued verse was born
beside this ancient water;
He trod the banks in sun and shade
and heard the wild birds’ patter.
That Bard is gone; so surely dead,
but his words live forever
And golden Daffodils still bloom
as Clouds pass o’er the river.