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I wandered lonely as a Cloud That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills, When all at
once I saw a crowd, A host of golden Daffodils ; Beside the Lake, beneath the
trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine
I blame them not Whose Fancy in this lonely Spot Was moved ; and in this way
expressed Their notion of its perfect rest. A Convent, even a hermit's Cell Would
break the silence of this Dell : It is not quiet, is not ease ; But something deeper
Now, whether it were by peculiar grace, A leading from above, a something given
, Yet it befel, that, in this lonely place, When I with these untoward thoughts had
striven, Beside a Pool bare to the eye of Heaven I saw a Man before me ...
While he was talking thus, the lonely place, The Old Man's shape, and speech, all
troubled me : In my mind's eye I seemed to see him pace About the weary moors
continually, Wandering about alone and silently. While I these thoughts within ...
How glad is Skipton at this hour — Though she is but a lonely Tower ! To vacancy
and silence left ; Of all her guardian sons bereft — Knight, Squire, or Yeoman,
Page or Groom ; We have them at the Feast of Brough'm. How glad Pendragon ...
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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.