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 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
Citizen Nobody - The Solitary Reaper Lyrics
Citizen Nobody - The Solitary Reaper Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
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 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
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 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
Writer: David Cosby, William Wordsworth
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid