Hello person who decieded to correct Wordsworth. I don't know if you have a different edition then we have, don't worry we don't mind.
Who are you?
The Solitary Reaper
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 sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt [chant]
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In springtime from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been or may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work
And 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.
This is the page for the group discussing and dissecting the poem the solitary reaper. ie Crooks Fitzpatrick Goodman and Tooley.
Hello person who decieded to correct Wordsworth. I don't know if you have a different edition then we have, don't worry we don't mind.
Who are you?
The Solitary Reaper
Behold her, single in the fieldYon 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 sound.
No Nightingale did ever chaunt [chant]
More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In springtime from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.
Will no one tell me what she sings?--
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been or may be again?
Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work
And 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.
Pictures
solitary_reaper1.jpgsolitary_reaper_2.JPG
solitary_tree.jpg