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Fly also, Muse ! and from the dell Mount to the ridge of Nathdale Fell ; Thence,
look thou forth o'er wood and lawn Hoar with the frost-like dews of dawn ; Across
yon meadowy bottom look, Where close fogs hide their parent brook ; And see, ...
A whirl-blast from behind the hill Rushed o'er the wood with startling sound :
Then — all at once the air was still, And showers of hailstones pattered round.
Where leafless Oaks towered high above, I sat within an undergrove Of tallest
With a huge wallet o'er my shoulder slung, A nutting-crook in hand, and turn'd my
steps Towards the distant woods, a Figure quaint, Tricked out in proud disguise
of cast-off weeds Which for that service had been husbanded, By exhortation of ...
Nor doth our human sense Ask, for its pleasure, screen or canopy More ample
than that time-dismantled Oak Spreads o'er this tuft of heath : which now, attired
In the whole fulness of its bloom, affords As beautiful a couch as e'er on earth
Him rather suits it, side by side with thee, Wrapped in a fit of pleasing indolence,
While thy tired lute hangs on the hawthorn tree, To lie and listen, till o'er-drowsed
sense Sinks, hardly conscious of the influence, To the soft murmur of the vagrant
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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.