Byron wasn't too polite about Southey either, as witness what he says in don juan
Well, you know, they all used to call each other names. Byron was puerile and used to scoff at Wordsworths surname, because it is literature-friendly.
I can barely manage fourteen lines of She Walks in Beauty let alone sixteen thousand lines of innuendo and grudges.
Thats truly a short Poem! And quite cryptic.
Its fascinating how stories such as this, pass on to us, from so long ago. It also gave me such a clear image in my mind.
In vain to me the smiling mornings shine, And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire: The birds in vain their amorous descant join, Or cheerful fields resume their green attire. These ears, alas! for other notes repine; A different object do these eyes require; My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine; And in my breast the imperfect joys expire; Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer, And new-born pleasure brings to happier men; The fields to all their wonted tribute bear; To warm their little loves the birds complain. I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear, And weep the more because I weep in vain. It will easily be perceived, that the only part of this Sonnet which is of any value is the lines printed in Italics; it is equally obvious, that, except in the rhyme, and in the use of the single word ’fruitless’ for fruitlessly, which is so far a defect, the language of these lines does in no respect differ from that of prose. |
www.bartleby.com
Thanks for this post. I have read through it, and need to read it again with my coffee later on.It's interesting how much Wordsworth departed from the then norms of 'poetical language' with its nymphs and so on. In his 'Preface to the Lyrical Ballads' he expounds at length on this and other matters but sums it up quite succinctly in his critique of Gray
And reddening Phœbus lifts his golden fire:
The birds in vain their amorous descant join,
Or cheerful fields resume their green attire.
These ears, alas! for other notes repine;
A different object do these eyes require;
My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;
And in my breast the imperfect joys expire;
Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer,
And new-born pleasure brings to happier men;
The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;
To warm their little loves the birds complain.
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,
And weep the more because I weep in vain.
It will easily be perceived, that the only part of this Sonnet which is of any value is the lines printed in Italics; it is equally obvious, that, except in the rhyme, and in the use of the single word ’fruitless’ for fruitlessly, which is so far a defect, the language of these lines does in no respect differ from that of prose.
It was a revolutionary idea in its day
- Collection at Bartleby.com
THE FIRST volume of these Poems has already been submitted to general perusal. It was published, as an experiment, which, I hoped, might be of some use to
which Coleridge accepted as far as Poetical Language is concerned but not in his far more dreamlike subject matter.
In comparison Byron wrote superficial doggerel and was a clever dick. He was the type to carry a paper bag in his pocket for when he was punched in the mouth. To put his teeth in.
I shall find and read that Poem later on.
I read through that one. That looks like an excellent poem. I will reread it later on. I need to spend an hour or so on a lot of poems to realise them fully. To ponder them. I just got the complete collection of Wordsworth today, and I can see he was prolific! I briefly read through a few and they are wonderful. His peaceful world is bliss to me. It is in sharp contrast to todays world of rushing about. To me it is more relevant than ever. Good escapism.
I love the bit about the death of Castlereagh and his grave.
This is superb. What a statement and how beautifully put. Maybe he was being rushed about against his will also. It seems so.
I have just finished the Wordsworth Biography ( by Hunter Davies ). The French spies wandering the countryside in the West Country was mentioned.
