2011 - United Kingdom
To a Lady,
with flowers from a Roman wall
- Sir Walter Scott, 1811
Take these flowers which, purple waving,
On the ruined rampart grew,
Where, the sons of freedom braving,
Rome’s imperial standards flew.
Warriors from the breech of danger
Pluck no longer laurels there:
They but yield the passing stranger
Wild-flower wreaths for Beauty’s hair.
with flowers from a Roman wall
- Sir Walter Scott, 1811
Take these flowers which, purple waving,
On the ruined rampart grew,
Where, the sons of freedom braving,
Rome’s imperial standards flew.
Warriors from the breech of danger
Pluck no longer laurels there:
They but yield the passing stranger
Wild-flower wreaths for Beauty’s hair.
The Daffodils
- 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 tree,
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 the bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
- 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 tree,
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 the bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
