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;
I've watched you now a full half-hour;; Self-poised upon that yellow flower; And, little Butterfly! Indeed; I know not if you sleep or feed; How motionless! - not frozen seas; More motionless! and then; What joy awaits you, when the breeze; Hath found you out among the trees; And calls you forth again!;
__William Wordsworth, "To a Butterfly"