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William Wordsworth - Written in MarchWilliam Wordsworth - Written in March
Work rating: Medium


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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