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Poem by William Wordsworth
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YES, it was the mountain Echo, Solitary, clear, profound, Answering to the shouting Cuckoo, Giving to her sound for sound! Unsolicited reply To a babbling wanderer sent; Like her ordinary cry, Like--but oh, how different! Hears not also mortal Life? Hear not we, unthinking Creatures! Slaves of folly, love, or strife-- Voices of two different natures? Have not 'we' too?--yes, we have Answers, and we know not whence; Echoes from beyond the grave, Recognised intelligence! Such rebounds our inward ear Catches sometimes from afar-- Listen, ponder, hold them dear; For of God,--of God they are.
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