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Herald of a mighty band, Of a joyous train ensuing, Singing at my heart's
command, In the lanes my thoughts pursuing, I will sing, as doth behove, Hymns
in praise of what I love ! VI. TO THE SAME FLOWER. Pleasures newly found are
Sing, mournfully, oh ! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie. Beside a Grotto of
their own, With boughs above them closing, The Seven are laid, and in the shade
They lie like Fawns reposing. But now, upstarting with affright At noise of Man
Sing, mournfully, oh ! mournfully, The Solitude of Binnorie. Some close behind,
some side by side, Like clouds in stormy weather, They run, and cry, " Nay let us
die, And let us die together." A Lake was near ; the shore was steep ; There never
Thou sing'st as if the God of wine Had helped thee to a Valentine ; A song in
mockery and despite Of shades, and dews, and silent Night ; And steady bliss,
and all the loves Now sleeping in these peaceful Groves. 1 heard a Stock-dove
sing or ...
William Wordsworth. XXII. THE SOLITARY 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 ;
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the kitten of the filling leaves bp[y willam words worth
My favorite is "Solitary Reaper". When I first read it, I fell in love with the poem. It's like Wordsworth wrote it for me only.
I always feel understood and totally embraced everytime I read this poem and walk away with a full heart.