We Are Seven by William Wordsworth [with subtitles] - read by poet Arthur L Wood скачать в хорошем качестве

We Are Seven by William Wordsworth [with subtitles] - read by poet Arthur L Wood

My poetry collections 'Poems for Susan' (2020) and 'Scarlet Land' (2021) are available from my shop: https://ko-fi.com/arthurlwood/shop If you wish to contribute to the channel, you can make a one time donation here: https://ko-fi.com/arthurlwood A beautiful poem by the great romantic poet William Wordsworth. I am reading the version from Lyrical Ballads. My aim is to breathe life into our rich literary heritage, and to add to the tradition through my own writing! Your support helps me to continue. We Are Seven BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH A simple child, dear brother Jim, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death? I met a little cottage-girl— She was eight years old, she said – Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad; Her eyes were fair, and very fair – Her beauty made me glad. ‘Sisters and brothers, little maid, How many may you be?’ ‘How many? Seven in all,’ she said, And wondering looked at me. ‘And where are they, I pray you tell?’ She answered, ‘Seven are we, And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea; Two of us in the churchyard lie, My sister and my brother; And in the churchyard-cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother.’ ‘You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea, Yet ye are seven – I pray you tell, Sweet maid, how this may be?’ Then did the little maid reply, ‘Seven boys and girls are we – Two of us in the churchyard lie, Beneath the churchyard-tree.’ ‘You run about, my little maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the churchyard laid, Then ye are only five.’ ‘Their graves are green, they may be seen,’ The little maid replied, ‘Twelve steps or more from my mother’s door, And they are side by side. My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem, And there upon the ground I sit, I sit and sing to them. And often after sunset, sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer And eat my supper there. The first that died was sister Jane; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain, And then she went away. So in the churchyard she was laid, And all the summer dry Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side.’ ‘How many are you, then,’ said I, ‘If they two are in Heaven?’ The little maiden did reply, ‘Oh master, we are seven!’ ‘But they are dead, those two are dead – Their spirits are in Heaven!’ ’Twas throwing words away, for still The little maid would have her will, And said, ‘Nay, we are seven!’ #Wordsworth #Poetry #ArthurLWood