... He paces on , a trusty Guide , - . Listen ! you can scarcely hear ! . Hither he his
course is bending ; - Now he leaves the lower ground , And up the craggy hill
ascending . WAGGONER Many a stop and stay he makes , Many THE
If the Butterfly knew but his friend , Hither his fight he would bend ; And find his
way to me Under the branches of. * See Paradise Lost , Book XI . , where Adam
points out to Eve the ominous sign of the Eagle chasing “ two Birds of gayest
Through the calm and frosty air Of this morning bright and fair Eddying round and
round they sink Softly , slowly : one might think , From the motions that are made ,
Every little leaf conveyed Sylph or Faery hither tending , To this lower world ...
... nor catch from thy wild eyes these gleams Of past existence , wilt thou then
forget That on the banks of this delightful stream We stood together ; and that I ,
so long A worshipper of Nature , hither came , Unwearied in that service : rather
And hither is he come at last , When he through such a day has gone , By this
dark cave to be distrest Like a poor bird - her plundered nest Hovering around
with dolorous moan ! Of that intense and piercing cry The listening Ass
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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.