On a Warm March Day

Once again, bare feet,
daffodils burst, finches nest.
Earth!  I hear you sing.

 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

Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.

 - Mark Twain