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William Wordsworth

The Reaper

BEHOLD her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;—
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for a vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No nightingale did ever chant
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt
Among Arabian sands;
No sweeter voice was ever heard
In springtime from the cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?—
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago,
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again!

Whate’er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o’er the sickle bending;—
I listen’d till I had my fill;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore
Long after it was heard no more.

 
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About the poet
William Wordsworth
 
By the same poet
Desideria
Upon Westminster Bridge
Daffodils
Lucy (i)
Lucy (ii)
Lucy (iii)
Lucy (iv)
Lucy (v)
Evening on Calais Beach
On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic, 1802
England, 1802 (i)
England, 1802 (ii)
England, 1802 (iii)
England, 1802 (iv)
England, 1802 (v)
Perfect Woman
Ode to Duty
The Rainbow
The Sonnet (i)
The Sonnet (ii)
The World
Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
Valedictory Sonnet to the River Duddon
Mutability
The Trosachs
Speak!
 
Related books
William Wordsworth at amazon.com


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