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William Wordsworth

Wordsworth

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’.
59 afgedrukte pagina’s
Auteursrechteigenaar
Michael O'Mara Books
Jaar van uitgave
2016
Uitgeverij
Michael O'Mara
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Impressies

  • Aidee Venturadeelde een impressie3 maanden geleden
    👍De moeite van het lezen waard
    🔮Verborgen diepten
    🌴Mooi tussendoortje
    🐼Schattig

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

Citaten

  • Aidee Venturaciteerde uit3 maanden geleden
    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!
  • Aidee Venturaciteerde uit3 maanden geleden
    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
  • Aidee Venturaciteerde uit3 maanden geleden
    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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