Daffodilly

And he cut the leaves of the snow-drop down, / And tied up the daffodilly; / And then he sung, as he bent at ’s work, / With a “Hiho! willy, willy.”

OK I’ll take it one flight down with a daffodilly for my love […]

Goofy ran for the door. “I need a daffodilly!” he said. There was one daffodil left in the garden, but he needed something to cut it.

The demise of a distinguished person in relaton to whom (as in your case) much may be said on both sides, is a sort of God send to the press. Only think of it! The whole periodical & diurnal press of England ringing with the praise of such a daffodilly Poet as [William] Wordsworth!

May was forced to obey. She felt belittled standing on line. Some day, when she’d be famous, she vowed, she’d make this daffodilly young fellow eat out of her hand. She regarded him down her nose, yet rather liked his nice manners. Some one called him Mart, but to May he was—and always remained—Wales.

I am, by tradition, authority, left unimpressed. I see that corns, that warts, that old, gray thoughts need to be cut away by my sapphire ideas, my Uranian mind and my daffodilly whims.

Minor irritations, mere thistles in a wood of thorns, included preparing dinner for the boys at a time agreed to by all, only to find that neither one turned up all evening, promises notwithstanding. Any cook knows how irritating this can be. Leo fumed, “I kid you not, I’m hot to kill. Me, the daffodilly poet of the 20s.”

It is Homer’s “asphodelos leimon,” the daffodilly mead or meadow, descriptive of Elysium, the Hesperides or western isles of departed shades.