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Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah

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Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah. 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

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Introduction to Literature

Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah

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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.

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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.

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Will no one tell me what she sings?--Perhaps the plaintive numbers flowFor 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?

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

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