They stretch'd 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
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company..
Such days couldn't have been scripted any better. The beauty of it all still fresh in my mind.. Yet, I am to take leave for now, for I am - unbelievable as it may seem - pre-occupied at the moment. A host of words I need conjure, on the almost mythical two lives of one great king. A minor bump, or a jump if you may, before I could put those sweet, sweet memories to words - for the lack of a better preserve.
Then, and only then.. shall my heart with pleasure fill, and dance away with the daffodils..
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