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Delicious is the Lay that sings The haunts of happy Lovers, The path that leads
them to the grove, The leafy groves that covers : And Pity sanctifies the verse That
paints, by strength of sorrow, The unconquerable strength of love ; Bear witness,
... in wondrous perspective displayed, A landscape richer than the happiest skill
Of pencil ever clothed with light and shade ; An intermingled pomp of vale and
hill, Tower, town, and city — and suburban grove, And stately forest where the
... woodbine bower or birchen grove, Inflicts his tender wound. — Who comes not
hither ne'er shall know How beautiful the world below ; Nor can he guess how
lightly leaps The brook adown the rocky steeps. v Farewell, thou desolate
So with his freight the Creature turns Into a gloomy grove of beech, Along the
shade with footstep true Descending slowly, till the two The open moonlight
reach. And there, along a narrow dell, A fair smooth pathway you discern, A
length of ...
Meanwhile the pair have reached a spot Where, sheltered by a rocky cove, A little
chapel stands alone, With greenest ivy overgrown, And tufted with an ivy grove.
Dying insensibly away From human thoughts and purposes, The building ...
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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.