Mais Pourquoi?

“

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, “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” (“Daffodils”)

“

“Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
but for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell’s despair.”

So sung a little Clod of Clay
Trodden with the cattle’s feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:

“Love seeketh only self to please,
To bind another to its delight,
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in heaven’s despite.”

”

—William Blake, “The Clod and the Pebble”