A memory

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Wordsworth had a penetrating eye for the phenomena of nature. He observed the senses of nature minutely, stored them up in his memory and recollected them on will to enjoy their beauty. The experience put him into a deep trance. His poetry is an exquisite expression of such emotions recollected in tranquility.

Once, the poet was wandering in the valleys and among the mountains. He was feeling free like high floating clouds. Suddenly, he saw a host of golden daffodils. They were growing beside the lake and under the trees. They were many in numbers. They looked continuous like stars that tinkle in the milky ways. The flowers were growing in an endless line along the edge of the lake. They were many in numbers. They were dancing vividly. The waves in the lake were rising. They also looked to be dancing. But the dance of the daffodils was more beautiful than that of the waves. The poet felt very happy in this joyful company. He continued gazing at the scene.  Long afterward whenever the poet was alone in his bed, he remembered this beautiful sight. It proved to be blessing for him in his solitude. Then he felt very happy. His heart began dance like daffodils.

 

 



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