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In the broad open eye of the solitary sky, They dance, — there are three, as
jocund as free, While they dance on the calm river's breast. Man and Maidens
wheel, They themselves make the Reel, And their Music's a prey which they
seize ; It ...
Behold her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass ! Reaping and singing
by herself; Stop here, or gently pass ! Alone she cuts, and binds the grain, And
sings a melancholy strain ; O listen ! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the
... o'er the sickle bending ; — I listened — motionless and still : And, as I mounted
up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more. xxm.
WRITTEN IN MARCH, While resting on the Bridge at 176 THE SOLITARY
And, while the Ass pursues his way, Along this solitary dell, As pensively his
steps advance, The mosques and spires change countenance, And look at Peter
Bell! That unintelligible cry Hath left him high in preparation, — Convinced that he
The solitary Reaper. This Poem was suggested by a beautiful sentence in a MS.
Tour in Scotland written by a Friend, the last line being taken from it verbatim
Page 227. — Song, at the Feast of Brougham Castle. Henry Lord Clifford, &c.
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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.