William Wordsworth By: Jocelyne Cruz

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH WAS BORN IN England ON THE 1ST OF APRIL,1770. He lost his mother at the age of six, which later on influenced much of his work.

Wordsworth attended Hawkshead Grammar school which firmly establishing his love for poetry. It is also believed he made his first attempt at free verse.

WHILE ATTENDING HIS FATHER DIED LEAVING HIM AND HIS FOUR SIBLING ORPHAN. AFTER HAWKSHEAD HE WENT ON TO STUDY AT ST. JOHNS COLLEGE IN CAMBRIDGE. BEFORE HE COULD FINISH HIS FINAL SEMESTER, hE WENT OFF ON A TOUR THROUGH EUROPE WHICH INFLUENCED BOTH HIS POLITICAL AND POETIC SENSIBILITIES.

While touring Europe, Wordsworth came into contact with the French Revolution. This experience brought about Wordsworth’s interest and sympathy for the life, troubles, and speech of the “common man.” These provided the utmost importance in wordsworth work.

Wordsworth live in France and conceived a daughter, Caroline, but left before she was born. In 1802 he returned along 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 two of their children- Catherine and John died while living in Grasmere.

In 1795 he met with Samuel Taylor Coleridge. It was with Coleridge that Wordsworth published the famous Lyrical Ballads in 1798. Wordsworth’s most famous work, The Prelude, is considered by many to be the crowning achievement of English romanticism. The poem was revised numerous of times

Wordsworth spent his final years settled at Rydal Mount in England, travelling and continuing his outdoor activities.

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.

OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze,

A visitant that while it fans my cheek

Doth seem half-conscious of the joy it brings

From the green fields, and from yon azure sky.

Whate'er its mission, the soft breeze can come

To none more grateful than to me; escaped

From the vast city, where I long had pined

A discontented sojourner: now free,

Free as a bird to settle where I will.

What dwelling shall receive me? in what vale 10

Shall be my harbour? underneath what grove

Shall I take up my home? and what clear stream

Shall with its murmur lull me into rest?

The earth is all before me. With a heart

Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty,

I look about; and should the chosen guide

Be nothing better than a wandering cloud,

I cannot miss my way. I breathe again!

Trances of thought and mountings of the mind

Come fast upon me: it is shaken off, 20

That burthen of my own unnatural self,

The heavy weight of many a weary day

Not mine, and such as were not made for me.

Long months of peace (if such bold word accord

With any promises of human life),

Long months of ease and undisturbed delight

Are mine in prospect; whither shall I turn,

By road or pathway, or through trackless field,

Up hill or down, or shall some floating thing

Upon the river point me out my course?

Made with Adobe Slate

Make your words and images move.

Get Slate

Report Abuse

If you feel that this video content violates the Adobe Terms of Use, you may report this content by filling out this quick form.

To report a Copyright Violation, please follow Section 17 in the Terms of Use.