William Wordsworth, an English poet, who was one of the defining member to launch the Romantic Age in English literature.
Living in Lake District most of his adult life, his poetry is mainly influenced by his love of nature. He would include sights and scenes of nature into his writing. For instance, he wrote "Lines Written in Early Spring" while on a stroll near the village of Alfrod. Similar to "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud", he compliments the beauty of nature by adding his feelings into the observations and events.
Poets have their own style of writing, and William Wordsworth is no exception. To him, simplicity is always the best. No elaborate description for him, he conveyed his emotions through common speech. Thus, his works, although modern English has changed from the olden times, are always easy to grasp and yet, are written with depth. Living in Lake District most of his adult life, his poetry is mainly influenced by his love for nature. He would include sights and scenes of nature into his writing. For instance, he wrote "Lines Written in Early Spring" while on a stroll near the village of Alfrod. Similar to "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud", he compliments the beauty of nature by adding his feelings into the observations and events.
However, what was the one feature of William Wordsworth writing that initiated the Romantic era? From what I know, poems in that time evoked strong emotions instead of formality. And that is exactly what William Wordsworth did. His poems emphasized on feelings, and also about the past. For instance, "Tintern Abbey" is about his childhood memories of nature upon the adult's mind.
Hence, my thesis: William Wordsworth is a man who prefers peace and serenity. He rather lead a simple life in the woods and get intrigued by Mother Nature. He is mysterious and would rather express himself in his writings. Why so? "The Prelude", William Wordsworth's most famous work, one poem that he had been working on throughout his life, depicts recognizable events in his life.
William Wordsworth was born in Cockermouth in Cumberland in 1770, a region called Lake District. The landscape there gave him a love for nature. He had four siblings, one played a very important role in his life. She is Dorothy Wordsworth, a poet and diarist who provided William Wordsworth with inspirations. William Wordsworth, though had never won any awards, is no doubt one of the most influential poets in history.

How about reading some of William Wordsworth poems? Prepare to be fascinated by nature's beauty.


--A Simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."

"You run above, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

"And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."

"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."

"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"

The Solitary Reaper

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 sorry, 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.

Bibliography: http://www.bartleby.com/145/
http://mural.uv.es/memaro2/firstpaper.html
http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/wordswor.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth

Comment | 2 Comments

William Wordsworth, an English poet, who was one of the defining member to launch the Romantic Age in English literature.
Living in Lake District most of his adult life, his poetry is mainly influenced by his love of nature. He would include sights and scenes of nature into his writing. For instance, he wrote "Lines Written in Early Spring" while on a stroll near the village of Alfrod. Similar to "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud", he compliments the beauty of nature by adding his feelings into the observations and events.
Poets have their own style of writing, and William Wordsworth is no exception. To him, simplicity is always the best. No elaborate description for him, he conveyed his emotions through common speech. Thus, his works, although modern English has changed from the olden times, are always easy to grasp and yet, are written with depth. Living in Lake District most of his adult life, his poetry is mainly influenced by his love for nature. He would include sights and scenes of nature into his writing. For instance, he wrote "Lines Written in Early Spring" while on a stroll near the village of Alfrod. Similar to "I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud", he compliments the beauty of nature by adding his feelings into the observations and events.
However, what was the one feature of William Wordsworth writing that initiated the Romantic era? From what I know, poems in that time evoked strong emotions instead of formality. And that is exactly what William Wordsworth did. His poems emphasized on feelings, and also about the past. For instance, "Tintern Abbey" is about his childhood memories of nature upon the adult's mind.
Hence, my thesis: William Wordsworth is a man who prefers peace and serenity. He rather lead a simple life in the woods and get intrigued by Mother Nature. He is mysterious and would rather express himself in his writings. Why so? "The Prelude", William Wordsworth's most famous work, one poem that he had been working on throughout his life, depicts recognizable events in his life.
William Wordsworth was born in Cockermouth in Cumberland in 1770, a region called Lake District. The landscape there gave him a love for nature. He had four siblings, one played a very important role in his life. She is Dorothy Wordsworth, a poet and diarist who provided William Wordsworth with inspirations. William Wordsworth, though had never won any awards, is no doubt one of the most influential poets in history.

How about reading some of William Wordsworth poems? Prepare to be fascinated by nature's beauty.


--A Simple Child,
That lightly draws its breath,
And feels its life in every limb,
What should it know of death?

I met a little cottage Girl:
She was eight years old, she said;
Her hair was thick with many a curl
That clustered round her head.

She had a rustic, woodland air,
And she was wildly clad:
Her eyes were fair, and very fair;
--Her beauty made me glad.

"Sisters and brothers, little Maid,
How many may you be?"
"How many? Seven in all," she said
And wondering looked at me.

"And where are they? I pray you tell."
She answered, "Seven are we;
And two of us at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea.

"Two of us in the church-yard lie,
My sister and my brother;
And, in the church-yard cottage, I
Dwell near them with my mother."

"You say that two at Conway dwell,
And two are gone to sea,
Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell,
Sweet Maid, how this may be."

Then did the little Maid reply,
"Seven boys and girls are we;
Two of us in the church-yard lie,
Beneath the church-yard tree."

"You run above, my little Maid,
Your limbs they are alive;
If two are in the church-yard laid,
Then ye are only five."

"Their graves are green, they may be seen,"
The little Maid replied,
"Twelve steps or more from my mother's door,
And they are side by side.

"My stockings there I often knit,
My kerchief there I hem;
And there upon the ground I sit,
And sing a song to them.

"And often after sun-set, Sir,
When it is light and fair,
I take my little porringer,
And eat my supper there.

"The first that died was sister Jane;
In bed she moaning lay,
Till God released her of her pain;
And then she went away.

"So in the church-yard she was laid;
And, when the grass was dry,
Together round her grave we played,
My brother John and I.

"And when the ground was white with snow,
And I could run and slide,
My brother John was forced to go,
And he lies by her side."

"How many are you, then," said I,
"If they two are in heaven?"
Quick was the little Maid's reply,
"O Master! we are seven."

"But they are dead; those two are dead!
Their spirits are in heaven!"
'Twas throwing words away; for still
The little Maid would have her will,
And said, "Nay, we are seven!"

The Solitary Reaper

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 sorry, 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.

Bibliography: http://www.bartleby.com/145/
http://mural.uv.es/memaro2/firstpaper.html
http://www.kirjasto.sci.fi/wordswor.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth

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