Daffodils, by W Wordsworth. 1st draft (beginning),

I walked along the road a bit

and up and down some hills.

And then I saw some yellow flowers

They called them daffodils

Along the pond and in the wood

waving and wobbling, they looked good

unending like the stars that glimmer

and glisten high up in the sky

they stretched as far as I could see

until a fly flew in my eye

I thought I saw a fair few thousand

sort of jigging to an unseen band