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 dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: -
A poet could not be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little though
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.

Lying in a great natural bowl between the green, craggy mountains, few villages in England enjoy a more dramatic setting than Grasmere. Rough-slated cottages, an ancient church & nearby lake have the intense beauty of a romantic painting, many artists & poets have been inspired by this spectacular landscape.

The focal point is the Church of St Oswalds, dedicated to St Oswald the 7th century King of Northumbria, the oldest part of the church dates from the 13th century. The graves of William Wordswoth (1770-1850) and his sister Dorothy, wife Mary and three children; John, Dora and Thomas are buried under simple gravestones in the church yard.

Close by is the recently completed Wordsworth Garden; a tranquil place beneath trees and next to the River Rothay. You may wonder from where the appetising aroma is radiating close to one of the church entrances. It comes from Sarah Nelson's Gingerbread Shop. Built in 1630, this small building, now a bakery and shop was once the schoolhouse.

Opposite are the 17th century cottages of Church Stiles. Formerly an Inn, now house Taffy Thomas's secret garden for storytelling, children adore him and his tales.

Grasmere Lake, described by Wordsworth as "the loveliest spot that man has found" is but a short stroll from the village with its undemanding shoreline walks.