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THE THORN. " There is a Thorn — it looks so old, In truth, you'd find it hard to say
How it could ever have been young, It looks so old and gray. Not higher than a
two years' child It stands erect, this aged Thorn ; No leaves it has, no thorny ...
Like rock or stone, it is o'ergrown With lichens to the very top, And hung with
heavy tufts of moss, A melancholy crop : Up from the earth these mosses creep,
And this poor Thorn they clasp it round So close, you'd say that they were bent
And, close beside this aged Thorn, There is a fresh and lovely sight, A beauteous
heap, a Hill of moss, Just half a foot in height. All lovely colours there you see, All
colours that were ever seen ; And mossy net-work too is there, As if by hand of ...
Now would you see this aged Thorn, This Pond, and beauteous Hill of moss, You
must take care and choose your time The mountain when to cross. For oft there
sits between the Heap That's like an infant's grave in size, And that same Pond of
... mountain-head : Some plainly living voices were ; And others, I've heard many
swear, Were voices of the dead : I cannot think, whate'er they say, They had to do
with Martha Ray. But that she goes to this old Thorn, The Thorn THE THORN.
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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.