 Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Betsy Bush on an iRiver T-10. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising. There are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, loose guy prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Esther on a Nexstar MA-566. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising. There are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, the small clouds are sailing, loose guy prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Esther on a Sansa C-200. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, loose guy prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Glammic Knight on MP3 Player. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, loose guy prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this reading is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Glammic Knight on Zoom H2. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest and the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, now doth fair ill. On the top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this reading is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Great Plains on an iRiver T10. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, the small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Great Plains on an iRiver IHP140. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Jerome Lawson on the Sandisk Sansa Clip. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Joseph Rowland on the creative sand vision M. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun. The oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey on iRiver IFP780 with external analogue headset mic. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey on iRiver IFP780 the cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one. Like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey on Kodak easy share camera Z650 the cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey on Ubuntu in audacity using a Logitech USB 350 mic. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest, the cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey on Samson H4 recorder, the cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On the top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Sean McGahey on Samson YPC1, the cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On the top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Tina C., on a Griffin eye-talk with an iPod Nano, recorded at best quality. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On the top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Alan Drake, on a Zoom H2 Handy Recorder. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill. On the top of the bare hill, the plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Alan Drake, on a Boss Digital Recorder BR600, settings on Vogue Comp 2. The cock is crowing, the street is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Icy Jumbo, on an Arcos Gmini 402. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and the youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Icy Jumbo, on an Arcos Gmini 402. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and the youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Laurie Ann Walden, on a creative Zen Nano Plus in P3 Player. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Mike, on a Samsung D600 mobile phone. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and the youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Mike, on a Korg D4 digital recorder. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair well on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Paul Curran, on a creative Muvvo N200. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboys whooping, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain. Written in March by William Wordsworth, read for LibriVox.org by Paul Curran, on an Aigo A208 MP3 player. The cock is crowing, the stream is flowing, the small birds twitter, the lake doth glitter, the green field sleeps in the sun, the oldest and youngest are at work with the strongest. The cattle are grazing, their heads never raising, there are forty feeding like one, like an army defeated, the snow hath retreated, and now doth fair ill on the top of the bare hill. The plowboy is woken, a-non, a-non. There's joy in the mountains, there's life in the fountains, small clouds are sailing, blue sky prevailing, the rain is over and gone. End of poem, this recording is in the public domain.