![Page 1: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/1.jpg)
Introduction to Literature
Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah
![Page 2: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/2.jpg)
![Page 3: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/3.jpg)
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 profoundIs overflowing with the sound.
![Page 4: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/4.jpg)
No Nightingale did ever chauntMore welcome notes to weary bandsOf travellers in some shady haunt,Among Arabian sands:A voice so thrilling ne'er was heardIn spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,Breaking the silence of the seasAmong the farthest Hebrides.
![Page 5: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/5.jpg)
![Page 6: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/6.jpg)
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?
![Page 7: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/7.jpg)
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.
![Page 8: Introduction to Literature Mrs. Nadia Khawandanah](https://reader035.vdocuments.mx/reader035/viewer/2022062812/568163f2550346895dd57402/html5/thumbnails/8.jpg)
Rhyme Scheme
ABABCCDD