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.


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