WILLIAM WORDSWORTH: NATURE

2016-07  William Wordsworth: Nature

William Wordsworth [1770-1850]

William Wordsworth [1770-1850] and Nature:

As a poet of Nature, Wordsworth stands supreme. He is a worshipper of Nature, Nature’s devotee or high-priest. 

His love of Nature was probably truer and tenderer than that of any other English poet, before or since. 

Nature comes to occupy in his poem a separate or independent status and is not treated in a casual or passing manner as by poets before him. 

Wordsworth had a full-fledged philosophy, a new and original view of Nature. He believed that there is a divine spirit pervading all the objects of Nature. 

He believed that the company of Nature gives joy to the human heart and he looked upon Nature as exercising a healing influence on sorrow-stricken hearts. 

Above all, he emphasized the moral influence of Nature. He spiritualised Nature and regarded her as a great moral teacher. 

Williyam Wordsworth: The Daffodils

The 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.

YouTube Video: The Daffodils by Williyam Wordsworth: [Click Here] 

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Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes,

While in a grove I sate reclined,

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts

Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link

The human soul that through me ran;

And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;

And ’tis my faith that every flower

Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,

Their thoughts I cannot measure:—

But the least motion which they made

It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,

To catch the breezy air;

And I must think, do all I can,

That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,

If such be Nature’s holy plan,

Have I not reason to lament

What man has made of man?

YouTube Video: Lines Written in Early Spring by Williyam Wordsworth: 

    [Click Here] 

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