This quote from William Wordsworth's Daffodils, one of the best known poems in the English language, tells us not just what the author experienced and valued but what might be available to all of us.

Wordsworth is saying that if we really look at something, as he looked at daffodils beside a lake, we own it, it becomes part of us to be retrieved and enjoyed again, inwardly, whenever we wish.

Wordsworth died in 1850, so he lived through a quieter period of history - before the automobile, the airplane, and all the modern electronic equipment we have today.

He didn't drive to the lake and park and make sure he had his Blackberry with him before he walked among the daffodils.

He didn't text or tweet or take photos of what he remembered later as a stretch of waving golden heads beneath the trees.

He gazed and gazed.

It's a good old word, gaze.

It means to look intently, long and steadily with interest, wonder or delight.

It is different from a casual glance or a quick look in passing while busy at doing or thinking about something else; different from noticing something and taking a quick picture of it that might or might not be briefly looked at some other time.

By gazing intently at the "golden daffodils," the writer has imprinted them on his inward eye.

How's your inward eye these days?

When did you last see with it to bring you the bliss of solitude?

While you are thinking about that, let's look at those two words, bliss and solitude.

We don't hear a lot about bliss in these busy days.

Like gazing, bliss needs a little time. It means great happiness, perfect joy. Its synonyms are ecstasy and rapture. We aren't likely to meet bliss while racing from one task to another. We won't find it on the shelves in Wal-Mart.

And as for solitude, how often do we have the chance to be really by ourselves for long enough to experience bliss without any electronic equipment to connect or distract us.

The lovely word, solitude, can mean both, voluntarily, joyfully, and gratefully being by yourself, away from the company of others; or being unhappily alone without companions.

Its meaning has shifted slightly since Wordworth used it. He wants the reader to know about the desirable state of being by yourself so that you can be in touch with those inner delights, to see with your inner eye and listen with your inner ear, to invite your memory to take you back to a place of enchantment.

He's not writing about loneliness. Sadly, poetry itself may be losing its power to do what Wordsworth's Daffodils has done - to whisk you away to another world of contemplation and happiness, while, at the same time, keeping you connected to the central core of the individual human being you are.

Last year, I read several articles about the use (and overuse) of iPhones and iPods, and the concern that we may be losing something precious, that we may be closing the doors to our inner selves as we spend so much time talking and texting and tweeting.

Well, maybe, just the opposite will occur and the ability to communicate so readily and so easily will open those doors, not close them.

Whatever happens, it is my wish in this new year, that you enjoy your share of bliss and that you find a little solace in your solitude.