The Last of the Flock by William Wordsworth (1798)

In distant countries I have been,

And yet I have not often seen

A healthy man, a man full grown

Weep in the public roads alone.

But such a one, on English ground,

And in the broad high-way, I met;

Along the broad high-way he came,

His cheeks with tears were wet.

Sturdy he seemed, though he was sad;

And in his arms a lamb he had.

  • Sep 1
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