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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 trykte sider
Copyrightindehaver
Michael O'Mara Books
Udgivelsesår
2016
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Vurderinger

  • Aidee Venturahar delt en vurderingfor 3 måneder siden
    👍Værd at læse
    🔮Overraskende
    🌴God til stranden
    🐼Vildt sød

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

Citater

  • Aidee Venturahar citeretfor 3 måneder siden
    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 Venturahar citeretfor 3 måneder siden
    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 Venturahar citeretfor 3 måneder siden
    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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