William Wordsworth

Cumberland / England
William Wordsworth
Cumberland / England
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The Idle Shepherd Boys

The valley rings with mirth and joy;
Among the hills the echoes play
A never never ending song,
To welcome in the May.
The magpie chatters with delight;
The mountain raven's youngling brood
Have left the mother and the nest;
And they go rambling east and west
In search of their own food;
Or through the glittering vapors dart
In very wantonness of heart.
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COMMENTS
Reg Hesketh 18 December 2017
A poem with a story about shepherd boys, probably not really idle by today's standards. My Granddad would have been a shepherd boy, being brought up on a farm at Dungeon Ghyll.
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