Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
William Wordsworth. 17701850528. 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, | 5 |
And sings a melancholy strain; | |
O listen! for the Vale profound | |
Is overflowing with the sound. | |
No Nightingale did ever chaunt | |
More welcome notes to weary bands | 10 |
Of travellers in some shady haunt, | |
Among Arabian sands: | |
A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard | |
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, | |
Breaking the silence of the seas | 15 |
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: | 20 |
Or is it some more humble lay, | |
Familiar matter of to-day? | |
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, | |
That has been, and may be again? | |
Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang | 25 |
As if her song could have no ending; | |
I saw her singing at her work, | |
And o’er the sickle bending;— | |
I listen’d, motionless and still; | |
And, as I mounted up the hill, | 30 |
The music in my heart I bore, | |
Long after it was heard no more. |