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Poem by William Wordsworth


Written in March


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! 



                      William Wordsworth


William Wordsworth's other poems:
  1. Upon The Same Event
  2. Sweet Was The Walk
  3. I Travelled among Unknown Men
  4. Most Sweet it is
  5. October, 1803


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