Sixty-One
Daffodils
5 August 1824
This will be my last entry in this journal until my new
one in September. I may not be able to find
scraps of paper between now and then to write on. Maybe I will make more of an effort to be
conversational with people around me. I
have been too introspective, perhaps.
John is making a trip to Mobile on behalf of Mr. Robert Jemison. It will take him away from me for two months
at least. Boat travel on the Alabama will not be
easy; he had to turn around the last time he tried. It is a marvelous business opportunity, though,
and one that may lead to further business with Mr. Jemison. The latter is a large planter with many
holdings. I believe that John can be of
great help to him as a blacksmith, as a carpenter, and as a field hand of
course; but now he can prove himself as an agent. I also think that Mr. Jemison will be a
future investor in John's inventions.
I hope, of course, that such an opportunity will provide
him with the means to support a family, and
thus remove the only obstacle that I can think of to not be married. Oh! Is it so wrong of me to think thus? For although I believe that Nan
was engaged quite hastily, I am thinking that John is taking a little long. However, I do think that he is a loving, conscientious
man, and wants to be able to provide for me comfortably.
He gave me this poem to contemplate whilst he is
gone. From Wordsworth, of course. I love the visual references to the
daffodils; this truly makes me happy. I
think that he gave it to me because he once was lonely (and so was I), and he
no longer need be, whether he and I are with each other, or whether we have the
fond memories of each other.
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 daffodil
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 daffodil
I selfishly hope our heroine finds some paper - that is, unless you need to use its lack as a reason for a skip in time. I am enjoying the bits of Wordsworth you employ, I have not read him since high school and it just might buy a volume now.
ReplyDeleteAs to your wonderful art - have you seen any of the art available from Dover Publications? Here is a link to get you into the site. http://store.doverpublications.com/by-subject-clip-art-men--women--children.html
ReplyDelete