Written in March

William Wordsworth

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The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plowboy is whooping- anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!

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  • Obiamaka

    man, this Williams Wordsworth fella sure had a way with words, eh? feels like i'm right there in the countryside, everythin' so real an alive. really captures the beauty of nature an all. its like you can hear the birds an see the green fields n the blue sky. one of the best i've read so far, hands down.