William Wordsworth wrote his famous “I Wondered Lonely as a Cloud” in 1804 after he and his sister Dorothy took a long stroll in the English Lake District of Cumbria where they lived, and where I plan soon to revisit. In anticipation of our rapidly approaching return to England, I present Wordsworth’s famous poem, as well as my own Texas rendition, a result of my inability to resist setting his poem (in a sense) amid my own pastoral setting.
I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD by William Wordsworth 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.
I FROLICKED, HAPPY AS A LAMB by Brenda Ethridge Ferguson (with sincere apologies to William Wordsworth) I frolicked, happy as a lamb That romps at play in grasses high When, with a start, I saw them--Bam! A population coming nigh In tops of trees, throughout the grass, Sweeping down the hills en mass. Ceaseless as the cloudless skies That give us ever rainless days, They marched brigade-like on the rise Across the fields, within our gaze. Ten million spied I on the move, Swinging their hips in hipster groove. The grasses waved these hoppers on, With destruction boogie bound. A writer, melancholy prone, In such company gloom I found. I watched and watched those monstrous foes, Regretting the lack of murder crows. Now when stretched out upon a hill All hot, and tired, and caring less, I see again the barren fields, Which is a plague, a Godly test. Yes, I am thankful and highly blessed But boogieing not, as you have guessed.
Happy Independence Day!