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William Wordsworth

Wordsworth

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William Wordsworth is chiefly remembered as one of the ‘Lake Poets’. Yet he was also one of the founders of English Romanticism, a writer whose early revolutionary fervor imbued his verse and his ideals.

Much of Wordsworth’s work was inspired by nature, but to a style rich in lyrical imagery he brought a deep interest in liberal humanitarianism and a profound concern for the lives, habits and speech of ordinary people, especially country people.

This collection includes: ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ (‘Daffodils’), ‘Ode. Intimations of Immortality’, ‘Character of the Happy Warrior’, ‘The Solitary Reaper’, ‘To a Sky-Lark’, ‘Tintern Abbey’, and extracts from ‘The Prelude’.
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59 printed pages
Copyright owner
Michael O'Mara Books
Original publication
2016
Publication year
2016
Publisher
Michael O'Mara

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  • Aidee Venturashared an impressionlast year
    👍Worth reading
    🔮Hidden Depths
    🌴Beach Bag Book
    🐼Fluffy

    Postales en forma de poema, me gustó mucho como evoca sentimientos hablando de paisajes y la naturaleza.

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    Quotes

    • Aidee Venturahas quotedlast year
      The sun has long been set,
      The stars are out by twos and threes,
      The little birds are piping yet
      Among the bushes and the trees;
      There’s a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes,
      And a far-off wind that rushes,
      And a sound of water that gushes,
      And the cuckoo’s sovereign cry
      Fills all the hollow of the sky.
      Who would go ‘parading’
      In London, ‘and masquerading’,
      On such a night of June
      With that beautiful soft half-moon,
      And all these innocent blisses?
      On such a night as this is!
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      • Aidee Venturahas quotedlast year
        Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind –
        But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
        Even for the least division of an hour,
        Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
        To my most grievous loss? –That thought’s return
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        • Aidee Venturahas quotedlast year
          For oft, when on my couch I lie
          In vacant or in pensive mood,
          They flash upon that inward eye
          Which is the bliss of solitude;
          And then my heart with pleasure fills
          And dances with the daffodils
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