Who is William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth (7 April 1770 – 23 April 1850) was an English Romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped to launch the Romantic Age in English literature with their joint publication Lyrical Ballads (1798).

Wordsworth's magnum opus is generally considered to be The Prelude, a semi-autobiographical poem of his early years that he revised and expanded a number of times. It was posthumously titled and published by his wife in the year of his death, before which it was generally known as "the poem to Coleridge".

Wordsworth was Poet Laureate from 1843 until his death from pleurisy on 23 April 1850.

Early life

The second of five children born to John Wordsworth and Ann Cookson, William Wordsworth was born on 7 April 1770 in what is now...
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William Wordsworth Poems

  • El Chico Normando
    Alto en un amplio tracto no fértil de bosque-bordeó Abajo,
    Ni guardado por la naturaleza para sí misma, ni hecho por el hombre suyo,
    Desde el hogar y la compañía remota y cada alegría lúdica,
    Sirvió, cuidando algunas ovejas y cabras, un Norman Boy desigual. ...
  • Sonnets Upon The Punishment Of Death - In Series, 1839 - Xiv - Apology
    The formal World relaxes her cold chain
    For One who speaks in numbers; ampler scope
    His utterance finds; and, conscious of the gain,
    Imagination works with bolder hope ...
  • The Cuckoo-clock
    Wouldst thou be taught, when sleep has taken flight,
    By a sure voice that can most sweetly tell,
    How far off yet a glimpse of morning light,
    And if to lure the truant back be well, ...
  • On The Banks Of A Rocky Stream
    Behold an emblem of our human mind
    Crowded with thoughts that need a settled home,
    Yet, like to eddying balls of foam
    Within this whirlpool, they each other chase ...
  • The Norman Boy
    High on a broad unfertile tract of forest-skirted Down,
    Nor kept by Nature for herself, nor made by man his own,
    From home and company remote and every playful joy,
    Served, tending a few sheep and goats, a ragged Norman Boy. ...
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Top 10 most used topics by William Wordsworth

Heart 385 Love 351 I Love You 351 Life 292 Heaven 285 Nature 280 Time 277 Earth 273 Power 256 Light 252


William Wordsworth Quotes

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Comments about William Wordsworth

Dealsonproducts: writers inspirational quotes every great and original writer, in proportion as he is great and original, must himself create the taste by which he is to be relished. - william wordsworth
Rylandtxt: call me william wordsworth the way i dance gaily like a daffodil
Willwordsworth_: “the world is too much with us; late and soon, getting and spending, we lay waste our powers; little we see in nature that is ours; we have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!” ― william wordsworth
Willwordsworth_: “books! tis a dull and endless strife: come, hear the woodland linnet, how sweet his music! on my life, there's more of wisdom in it.” ― william wordsworth, wordsworth: poems
Imogalore: fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. william wordsworth
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Adeline bincy : I love her poem I loved poem is daffodils









FAYAZ AHMAD HAKIM: WORDSWORTH IS THE FATHER OF NATURE POETRY .
FAYAZ AHMAD HAKIM: WORDSWORTH IS THE FATHER OF NATURE POETRY .
FAYAZ AHMAD HAKIM: WORDSWORTH IS THE FATHER OF NATURE POETRY .
William: Hii kase

Diksha: Nature poem
Charles W Spurgeon, professor emeritus: Sometimes I feel as if Wordsworth gave me that which I call my soul; he so informed my psyche that I intuit my humanity at home with Nature. His poetry creates "heart-mindfulness".
Jishu Dolui: His full poem ❝ We are seven ❞ my photo album
Jill Bulman: Wondered why there is no listing for Wordsworth's most famous and probably most loved poem, 'I wandered lonely as a cloud' ?!
Written in London, September, 1902: high thinking and simple living
RALlB: 'apt admonishment', from Resolution and Independence, so he was a teacher and humble too, though a Johnian he recognised the sublime beauty and excess of King's College chapel 'glorious work of fine intelligence' and 'give all thy canst, High Heaven rejects the lore of nicely calculated less or more'

Poem of the day

Edgar Albert Guest Poem
The Killing Place
 by Edgar Albert Guest

We're hiking along at a two-forty pace
We 're making life seem like a man-killing race,
With our nerves all on edge and our jaws firmly set
We go rushing along; with our brows lined with sweat
And our cheeks pale and drawn every minute we dash,
And the goal that we 're after is merely more cash.

We 're out for the money, the greenbacks and gold,
...

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