Poem

I don't usually post to the class blog, as I think if it as a student-centered space. However, I would like to share a poem that has been central to my formation as not only a scholar, but also as a person.

This poem was recited by one of my college professors in a British literature course. He recited all our poems off the top of his head and with such dignity. I have a lousy memory and have no hope of ever achieving that feat. However, soon after hearing this poem, I decided to become an English major (I had been leaning towards a degree in psychology or social work). I will give you the poem and then explain how it resonates with me.

"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.

--William Wordsworth


The poem's theme reflects my core beliefs about the value of introspective thought and the necessity, sometimes, for solitude. In the poem, Wordsworth writes about an experience of seeing a "crowd" of daffodils. He talks about the experience, which as simple enough, but then he realizes later how significant this experience was to him. He, in a reflective and solitary state, is able to conjure up the memory ("inward eye") and it has the power to allow him to transcend his present situation ("on the couch..in vacant or pensive mood"). He re-creates the "pleasure" of the experience once again. This is why I value travel so much. I want the experiences that I can recall that lift me from the routine of my every day existence. When I can recall portions of my two trips to the UK, I can hear certain things such as the anonymous voice on the tube calling out "Next stop: Waterloo Station. Please mind the gap." I can visualize small, particular details of certain places we visited and I am somehow transformed by the memory.

So anyway, this is the poem, as I often say, that turned my into an English major. And the rest, as they say, is history.