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.

Will no one tell me what she sings?—
  Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
  And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang
  As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
  And o'er the sickle bending;—
I listen'd, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

---------------------------------  This poem inspired my poem >>>
I Never Know
(Inspired by ‘Another Solitary Reaper’  by Wordsworth)

I never know if, out of sight
Another stands by in delight
Listening to my melody
Intended  just for me

If I sing in the open air
And only birds can hear me there
I wonder what response they have
I know they cannot clap

‘Tis very well they hear!
Though we can see no ears
I could be wrong but
I doubt that they enjoy our song

We think we are alone a lot
When we are not
Assumptions made are wrong
About who listens to our songs

Sean Hunt  May 11th 2016
(Inspired by ‘Another Solitary Reaper’  by Wordsworth)

I visited Wordsworth Trust in Grasmere this morning.  They have established a poetry blog and are inviting poems from the public for consideration.  They are selecting some for publication on their website.  They are specifically asking people to read 'The Solitary Reaper' by Wordsworth and write a poem inspired by his poem.  So this is my effort.  If anyone wishes to do the same you could publish the poem here and then contact Simon Davies at Wordsworth Trust by email or send a link to your poem on Hello Poetry.  I think I will try the latter.   Simon's email address is:  S.Davies@wordsworth.org.uk.

My idea worked well;  I copied the Hello Poetry url link and pasted it in my comment on the Wordsworth comments page.........i.e
thoughts on “Another Solitary Reaper”

https://wordsworth.org.uk/blog/2016/05/04/another-solitary-reaper/

Sean Hunt
11TH MAY 2016 AT 5:31 PM
Your comment is awaiting moderation.

http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1648554/i-never-know/

I wrote a poem inspired by this Wordsworth poem and I uploaded it to a web poetry site (link above). What struck me about the poem was not the actual imagined idyllic experience of a surprised eavesdropping walker, listening to a well-sung song, it was for me, the non-awareness of the singer that she was being listened to and enjoyed; I found this to be the most interesting aspect of the described scene. Thank you for the encouragement to read this poem and be inspired by it Simon _/_
REPLY
#wordsworth

I have never known that I will be my tutor,
Since 2014 every respective day,
Is self-taught schooling in a way,
Day in and day out I discovered a lot.
Every year we mount up not realizing that we really are.
Though most of us look forth, some of us never fail to look back at our amour.

At a glance, Wordsworth saw ten thousand daffodils.
So did I, but my past.
Every day appeared different to me.

Have I been that one person?
Who cribbed and mourned with least reasons.
Knowing that God bestows me with joyful seasons,
I underestimated the power of self-taught lessons
As I considered them as unseen lesions.
Forgetting that they encompassed a few of my missions.

At a glance, Wordsworth saw ten thousand daffodils.
So did I, but my present.
Every heyday wasn't innovative to me


The year was good for me
But, I didn't allow anyone to see
As I have always thought of the secret behind being free
It would have taken a few minutes to glee
Where I kept waiting for my fling to cross the seven seas.
No wonder why didn't I seize, the best moments of gleaming breeze.

At a glance, Wordsworth saw ten thousand daffodils.
So did I, but my future.
Each day was a threat to me.

Though complaints and blames are two different terms,
They deserve a meaning of their own.
As I knew my students deserve the best lessons
I sowed good thoughts and positive vibes.
Like a preacher, I followed a few of my words.
But I didn't bother to carry to them in my world.

At a glance, Wordsworth saw ten thousand daffodils.
So did I, but roses, thorns, and petals.
Each and every day reminded me, who should I be.

There is a heaven and a hell in every one of us
We need to find out the best and worst sides of it
But most of never know how to figure out.
I could be one of them.
We have our answers for dos and don'ts
Have I not been the one?
Who mostly won
All my battles on my own.