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And, such the stillness of the house, You might have heard a nibbling mouse ;
While, borrowing helps where'er he may, The Sailor through the story runs Of
Ships to Ships and guns to guns ; And does his utmost to display The dismal
I was a Traveller then upon the moor; I saw the Hare that raced about with joy ; I
heard the woods, and distant waters, roar; Or heard them not, as happy as a Boy :
The pleasant season did my heart employ : My old remembrances went from me
... For many a time and oft were heard Cries coming from the 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.
it was enough for me ; I turned about and heard her cry, " Oh misery ! oh misery !"j
And there she sits, until the moon Through half the clear blue sky will go ; And,
when the little breezes make, The waters of the Pond to shake, As all the country
He listens — not a sound is heard Save from the trickling household rill ; But,
stepping o'er the cottage-sill, Forthwith a little girl appeared. She to the Meeting-
house was bound In hope some tidings there to gather ; — No glimpse it is — no
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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.