The Solitary Reaper
Автор книги William Wordsworth
Время прослушивания 00:46,
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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.
More welcome notes to weary bands.
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.
Among the farthest Hebrides.
