Showing posts with label Romanticism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Romanticism. Show all posts

April 07, 2015

Daffodils



William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge (my favorite of the two) ushered in the English period of the Romantic movement in poetry and literature with their publication of Lyrical Ballads in 1798.

The simplicity of their poetic diction, the enduring imagery and vividness that permeates their works, along with the mystical and sometimes ominous subjects their musings revolve around, has made their poetry both incredible and incredibly accessible and relatable to the layperson. These two poets have produced works that are not only beautiful and mesmerizing, but also honest and bold enough so as to reach out and touched gently on the Woeful and Dreadful in ways that are, in literary terms, beyond reproach. These poets are, in short, Homeric monuments.

Wordsworth, who was born on this day in 1770, was the first poet of the Romantic period in England that I read, and I was drawn to him immediately! His Lucy poems are eerily intriguing, steeped in total mystery and riddled with an acute sense of melancholy and lament (far from the mere pastoral musings of a naturalist poet that many have predicated upon him). His poem, Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802, which describes the beauty of a serene London morning from the quite perspective of the Westminster Bridge, is one of my favorite poems of all time- and probably one of his more popular ones.

Of his more popular works, I find it remarkable (and very embarrassing the more I contemplate it) that though I'm a fan of the works of Wordsworth, I only recently became acquainted with what's deemed one of his finest poems, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud, also simply known as Daffodils.

To commemorate his date of birth, I'd like to share that poem with you. The rhyme scheme is simple: ababcc per stanza; the meter, a smooth eight syllables per line (iambic tetrameter); and the imagery, sublime. Trust me, you'll dig it. Let me know what you think.



Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden Daffodils;
Beside the Lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.


Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

 

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:-
A Poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company:
I gazed---and gazed---but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:


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.

November 28, 2011

Happy Date of Birth, Blake!

William Blake is one of the more eccentric poets of the Romantic period- indeed, he’s sometimes so unique and so different that it’s hard for me to associate him with Romanticism (and sometimes I just don’t). There’s a strangeness and darkness about his works that I’ve never been able to quite articulate, a sort of eerie mysticism that pervades the inner life of both his poems as well as his art- he’s a sort 18th century version of Baudelaire. Yep- that’s him.

Anyhow, he was born this day in 1757, and I just wanted to thank him for leaving such great works of poetry, and give him props … happy birthday, big guy …

April 07, 2011

A Poem to Lucy


She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone.
Half hidden from the eye!
—Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!


Of the Poem (Brief Commentary & Parameters)

She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways was written by Wordsworth in Germany in 1798 and published in London in 1800. The poem is dedica
ted to a figure hitherto unknown: Lucy.

It is said by some that Lucy is a real person, by others that she’s fictitious, and still by others that she’s a composite, hybrid character. Thomas DeQuincey, a friend of Wordsworth, wrote that the poet "always preserved a mysterious silence on the subject of that Lucy.”

What is known about Lucy is that she meant a great deal to Wordsworth, and that, according to the group of poems, she died young.

Of the Lucy poems there’s a total of five (including this one) - the others are:


Parameters


Stanza: The poem consists of three quatrains structured very much so in the form of a ballad.

Meter: The first and third line of each stanza revolve* around a tetrameter (i.e. 8 syllables per line), and the second and fourth are trimeters (i.e. 6 syllables per line).

Rhyme Scheme: The rhyme scheme, per stanza, is abab (but notice that an
oblique rhyme is used in lines 5 and 7, i.e. stone and one).

And so there it is, another exceedingly gorgeous work by another admirable poet.


*****

Before I leave off, just a side note ...

One of my New Years resolutions was that I'd steep myself into any and everything that even remotely was connected with poetry- bad idea: there's just too much that's connected to it (or should I say, poetry is connected to everything).

Well, one of the first things on my list was to undergo a rigorous, systematic study of the history of poetry, her movements, and the poets of those movements. When I reached the Romantic period (within which Wordsworth was) I felt blessed to know it.

If any person was just beginning to learn about poetry and asked my advice on where to start, I promise you my resolute answer would be the Romantic period.

Be blessed all, and feel the Muse ...


*****

*I say ‘revolves around’ a tetrameter because lines I and 5 both contain an extra syllable. We could, if we wanted to force a tetrameter, read line one like this: She dwelt among th’ untrodden ways … but this wouldn’t account for line 5’s extra syllable.

William Wordsworth*


William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850)

On April 7, 1770, William Wordsworth was born in Cockermouth, Cumbria, England. Wordsworth's mother died when he was eight--this experience shapes much of his later work. Wordsworth attended Haw
kshead Grammar School, where his love of poetry was firmly established and, it is believed, he made his first attempts at verse. While he was at Hawkshead, Wordsworth's father died leaving him and his four siblings orphans. After Hawkshead, Wordsworth studied at St. John's College in Cambridge and before his final semester, he set out on a walking tour of Europe, an experience that influenced both his poetry and his political sensibilities. While touring Europe, Wordsworth came into contact with the French Revolution. This experience as well as a subsequent period living in France, brought about Wordsworth's interest and sympathy for the life, troubles and speech of the "common man". These issues proved to be of the utmost importance to Wordsworth's work. Wordsworth's earliest poetry was published in 1793 in the collections An Evening Walk and Descriptive Sketches. While living in France, Wordsworth conceived a daughter, Caroline, out of wedlock; he left France, however, before she was born. In 1802, he returned to France with his sister on a four-week visit to meet Caroline. Later that year, he married Mary Hutchinson, a childhood friend, and they had five children together. In 1812, while living in Grasmere, they grieved the loss of two of their children, Catherine and John, who both died that year.

Equally important in the poetic life of Wordsworth was his 1795 meeting with the poet, Samuel Taylor Coleridge. It was with Coleridge that Wordsworth published the famous Lyrical Ballads in 1798. While the poems themselves are some of the most influential in Western literature, it is the preface to the seco
nd edition that remains one of the most important testaments to a poet's views on both his craft and his place in the world. In the preface Wordsworth writes on the need for "common speech" within poems and argues against the hierarchy of the period which valued epic poetry above the lyric.

Wordsworth's most famous work, The Prelude (1850), is considered by many to be the crowning achievement of English romanticism. The poem, revised numerous times, chronicles the spiritual life of the poet and marks the birth of a new genre of poetry. Although Wordsworth worked on The Prelude throughout his life, the poem was published posthumously. Wordsworth spent his final years settled at Rydal Mount in England, travelling and continuing his outdoor excursions. Devastated by the death of his daughter Dora in 1847, Wordsworth seemingly lost his will to compose poems. William Wordsworth died at Rydal Mount on April 23, 1850, leaving his wife Mary to publish The Prelude three months later.

*Biography from Poets.org

The Poets

As of April 9th, 2010