Selected Poems

by William Wordsworth, Stephen Gill (Editor)

One of the major poets of Romanticism, Wordsworth epitomized the spirit of his age with his celebration of the natural world and the spontanous expression of feeling. This volume contains a rich selection from the most creative phase of his life, including extracts from his masterpiece, The Prelude, and the best-loved of his shorter poems such as 'Composed Upon Westminster Bridge', 'Tintern Abbey', 'I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud', 'Lucy Gray', and 'Michael'. Together these poems demonstrate not only Wordsworth's astonishing range and power, but the sustained and coherent vision that informed his work.

Genres: Poetry, Classics, Romanticism, Fiction, English Literature, British Literature, Read For School

314 pages, Paperback

Published March 29, 2005

About the author

William Wordsworth (1770-1850) was a major English romantic poet who, with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, helped launch the Romantic Age in English literature with their 1798 joint publication, Lyrical Ballads.

Wordsworth's masterpiece is generally considered to be The Prelude, an autobiographical poem of his early years, which the poet revised and expanded a number of times. The work was posthumously titled and published, prior to which, it was generally known as the poem "to Coleridge". Wordsworth was England's Poet Laureate from 1843 until his death in 1850.

Reviews

[E. G. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Chronology
Introduction & Notes
Further Reading
A Note on the Texts

--Old Man Travelling
--The Ruined Cottage
--A Night-Piece
--The Old Cumberland Beggar
--Lines Written at a Small Distance from my House
--Goody Blake and Harry Gill
--The Thorn
--The Idiot Boy
--Lines Written in Early Spring
--Anecdote for Fathers
--We Are Seven
--Expostulation and Reply
--The Tables Turned
--Lines Written a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey
--The Fountain
--The Two April Mornings
--'A slumber did my spirit seal'
--Song ('She dwelt among th' untrodden ways')
--'Strange fits of passion I have known'
--Lucy Gray
--Nutting
--'Three years she grew in sun and shower'
--The Brothers
--Hart-Leap Well
--from 'Home at Grasmere'

from 'Poems on the Naming of Places':
--To Joanna
--'A narrow girdle of rough stones and crags'

--Michael
--'I travelled among unknown Men'
--To a Sky-Lark
--Alice Fell
--Beggars
--To a Butterfly ('Stay near me')
--To the Cuckoo
--'My heart leaps up when I behold'
--To H. C., Six Years Old
--'Among all lovely things my Love had been'
--To a Butterfly ('I've watched you')
--Resolution and Independence
--'Within our happy Castle there dwelt one'
--'The world is too much with us'
--'With Ships the sea was sprinkled far and nigh'
--'Dear Native Brooks your ways have I pursued'
--'Great Men have been among us'
--'It is not to be thought of that the Flood'
--'When I have borne in memory what has tamed'
--'England! the time is come when thou shouldst wean'
--Composed by the Sea-Side, near Calais
--'It is a beauteous Evening, calm and free'
--To Toussaint L'Ouverture
--Composed in the Valley, near Dover, on the Day of Landing
--Composed Upon Westminster Bridge
--London, 1802
--'Nuns fret not at their Convent's narrow room'
--Yarrow Unvisited
--'She was a Phantom of delight'
--Ode to Duty
--Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
--'I wandered lonely as a Cloud'
--Stepping Westward
--The Solitary Reaper
--Elegiac Stanzas
--A Complaint
--Gipsies
--St Paul's
--'Surprized by joy -- impatient as the Wind'
--Yew-Trees
--Composed at Cora Linn
--Yarrow Visited
--To R. B. Haydon, Esq. ('High is our calling, Friend!')
--Sequel to the Foregoing [Beggars]
--Ode: Composed upon an Evening of Extraordinary Splendor and Beauty
--The River Duddon: Conclusion
--'The unremitting voice of nightly streams'
--Airey-Force Valley
--Extempore Effusion Upon the Death of James Hogg
--'Glad sight wherever new with old'
--At Furness Abbey
--'I know an aged Man constrained to dwell'

from 'The Prelude':
--Book I
--Book II
--Book III
--Book IV
--Book V
--Book VI
--Book VII
--Book VIII
--Book IX
--Book X
--Book XI
--Book XII
--Book XIII

Notes
Index of Titles
Index of First Lines

[fioo ! ♡ ∗ ˚ ˖࣪ ∗ ‎˖ ݁ . ° · ˚ ₊ · Rating 4 out of 5]

I just wanted to note that, and here are some highlights from William's poems:

"My whole life I have lived in pleasant thought,
As if life’s business were a summer mood;
As if all needful things would come unsought
To genial faith, still rich in genial good;
But how can He expect that others should
Build for him, sow for him, and at his call Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?"

«This morning gives us promise of a glorious day.»

"Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give."

"Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?"

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting."

"With all the Persons, down to palsied Age,
That Life brings with her in her equipage;
As if his whole vocation
Were endless imitation."

[Nadia Jasmine · Rating 5 out of 5]

সেপ্টেম্বরে কি পড়ে শেষ করতে পারলাম, তা নিয়ে নিয়মিত লেখার চেষ্টা করি। বেশিরভাগ সময়ই কোন বই নিয়ে আলাদা করে এখানে রিভিউ লিখলে সেই লেখায় আর ঐ বই নিয়ে অতো আলাপ করতে ইচ্ছা করে না। যেটা নিয়ে আলাদা করে লেখা হয় না, সেটা নিয়েই তাতে কথা বলি। সেখানেই এখনো নিজেকে কবিতা নিয়ে ‘বকলম’ ভাবা আমি কোনমতে একটা অনুচ্ছেদ যুক্ত করেছি এই বই নিয়ে। সেই অনুচ্ছেদ কবিতার ব্যবচ্ছেদে (সম্ভব নয় আমার দ্বারা) মনোযোগী হয় নি, শুধু অনুভূতির বয়ানে সীমাবদ্ধে থেকেছে। সেটা এখানে তুলে দিচ্ছি—-

‘…..ওয়ার্ডসওয়ার্থের সিলেক্টেড পোয়েমস ধরেছিলাম চার বছর আগে। কিনেছিলামও মনে হয় সে সময়েই। এর আগে কোনদিনই কোন ইংরেজী রোমান্টিক কবি বা সে আমলের বা কাছাকাছি অন্য যুগের কবিতার বই পড়ার চেষ্টা করি নি। সাধ্যাতীত মনে হতো, এখনো মনে হয়। তারপর গতবছর ঠিক করলাম চাপ না নিয়ে পড়ে যাব। আর কবিতা জানি না কে কিভাবে পড়ে, আমার বেলায় অল্প অল্প করে পড়লেই মনে হয় কথাগুলোর একটা রেশ থাকে মনে। সুনীল তাঁর কোন এক বইয়ে লিখেছিলেন যে তিনি একটানে কবিতার বই পড়তে পারতেন না, সেই তথ্যও আসলে উৎসাহব্যঞ্জক ছিল। যাই হোক, ওয়ার্ডসওয়ার্থের কবিতা পড়ে ইংরেজী বাক্যকে কতোভাবে অলংকৃত ও গভীর করা যায়, তা জানলাম। বাংলার মতো তো ইংরেজী বাক্য ভেঙে ফেলা যায় না, তাই মনে হতো যে একটা গন্ডিতে গঠন বুঝেই যা লেখার লিখতে গিয়ে বাংলার তুলনায় একটু হলেও তা নীরস হয়ে পড়ে হয়তো। যেহেতু পড়িই নি একেবারে, এই ধারণাটার আসলে তেমন ভিত্তিই নেই। যদিও এ সময়ের কিছু কবিদের কবিতা ভালো লেগেছে টুকটাক। সাহসে কুলোচ্ছিল না বলেই পড়া শুরু করেও থেমে গিয়েছিলাম। আবার পড়তে গিয়ে যাকে বলে মুগ্ধ হয়ে গেলাম সত্যি সত্যিই। ওয়ার্ডসওয়ার্থ এক কথায় অসাধারণ। তিনি গল্প বলে যেতে থাকেন কবিতার মধ্য দিয়ে, একেক সময়ে সেটা ছোট গল্পের ভ্রমও তৈরি করে। ওদিকে ভাষা নিয়ে, নিজস্ব দর্শন নিয়ে তাঁর কবিতার নানা পংক্তি নিঃসন্দেহে ভাবিয়ে তুলে। এরপর আবার সেই আমলের কার কবিতার বই পড়া যায় ভাবছি। ওয়ার্ডসওয়ার্থ পড়ে এটা বুঝেছি যে কেন এতো বছর পরেও তাঁর কবিতা প্রাসঙ্গিক।…’

[Daniel Wright · Rating 4 out of 5]

I am not a fan of Wordsworth. I find his poems veering towards the sentimental and obscure. I think his influence in this direction has been mostly negative. But I can respect his ability to put one word after another, and his status as a pioneer - albeit of lands I have no wish to tread.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is proof that tastes change as you age: at university I was not a fan, but now William has the power to move me to tears!
I much prefer his earlier work, and I disagree that 'The Prelude' is his greatest work. It does what William wanted it to do - to keep him in people's minds as a great poet; and he is a great poet.

[Elise]

Didn't actually finish, just wanted to get ahead on my gr goal 🧚‍♀️✨

[Felipe · Rating 3 out of 5]

There neither is, nor can be, any essential difference between the language of prose and metrical composition.

This quote exemplifies Wordsworth's views regarding poetry, which directly clashes with what I myself believe. To me, the author's style is simply emjambled prose; prose that is conveniently broken down into shorter lines to imitate the visual organization of the text. Supposedly, this approach forces the reader to slow down and appreciate the poem more, yet that was definitely not the case to me. That is specially true in the Prelude, the author's largest and most important work, which was very unfortunate.

I read this collection primarily to improve my own poetic writing, which is in its infancy and is therefore very limited. In that regard, Wordsworth blank verse was completely useless to my goals, since it lacks the musicality, lyricism, and vibe of what I consider poetic. That is not to say the whole collection is like this. The four tenths that don't follow his philosophical project towards poetry are very pleasant. They are mostly rhyming stanzas that tell a story, which was much more close to what I expected out of the whole collection.

Composed by the Sea-Side, near Calais August, 1802

Fair Star of Evening, Splendor of the West,
Star of my Country! on the horizon's brink
Thou hangest, stooping, as might seem, to sink
On England's bosom; yet well pleased to rest,
Meanwhile, and be to her a glorious crest
Conspicuous to the Nations. Thou, I think,
Should'st be my Country's emblem; and should'st wink,
Bright Star! with laughter on her banners, drest
In thy fresh beauty. There! that dusky spot
Beneath thee, it is England; there it lies.
Blessings be on you both! one hope, one lot,
One life, one glory! I, with many a fear
For my dear Country, many heartfelt sighs,
Among Men who do not love her linger here.

Composed Upon Westminster Bridge Sept. 2, 1802

Earth has not any thing to shew more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth like a garment wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the elds, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his rst splendor valley, rock, or hill;
Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Hart-Leap Well

The Knight had ridden down from Wensley moor
With the slow motion of a summer's cloud;
He turned aside towards a Vassal's door,
And, ‘Bring another Horse!’ he cried aloud.

‘Another Horse!’ – That shout the Vassal heard,
And saddled his best steed, a comely Grey;
Sir Walter mounted him; he was the third
Which he had mounted on that glorious day.

Joy sparkled in the prancing Courser's eyes,
The horse and horseman are a happy pair;
But, though Sir Walter like a falcon ies,
There is a doleful silence in the air.

A rout this morning left Sir Walter's Hall,
That as they galloped made the echoes roar;
But horse and man are vanished, one and all;
Such race, I think, was never seen before

Sir Walter, restless as a veering wind,
Calls to the few tired dogs that yet remain:
Brach, Swift and Music, noblest of their kind,
Follow, and weary up the mountain strain.

The Knight hallooed, he chid and cheered them on
With suppliant gestures and upbraidings stern;
But breath and eye-sight fail, and, one by one,
The dogs are stretched among the mountain fern.

Where is the throng, the tumult of the chace?
The bugles that so joyfully were blown?
– This race it looks not like an earthly race;
Sir Walter and the Hart are left alone.

The poor Hart toils along the mountain side;
I will not stop to tell how far he ed,
Nor will I mention by what death he died;
But now the Knight beholds him lying dead.

Dismounting then, he leaned against a thorn;
He had no follower, dog, nor man, nor boy:
He neither smacked his whip, nor blew his horn,
But gazed upon the spoil with silent joy.

Close to the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned,
Stood his dumb partner in this glorious act;
Weak as a lamb the hour that it is yeaned,
And foaming like a mountain cataract.

Upon his side the Hart was lying stretched:
His nose half-touched a spring beneath a hill,
And with the last deep groan his breath had fetched
The waters of the spring were trembling still.

And now, too happy for repose or rest,
Was never man in such a joyful case,
Sir Walter walked all around, north, south and west,
And gazed, and gazed upon that darling place.

And turning up the hill, it was at least
Nine roods of sheer ascent, Sir Walter found
Three several marks which with his hoofs the beastHad left imprinted on the verdant ground.

Sir Walter wiped his face, and cried, ’Till now
Such sight was never seen by living eyes:
Three leaps have borne him from this lofty brow,
Down to the very fountain where he lies.

I'll build a Pleasure-house upon this spot,
And a small Arbour, made for rural joy;
'Twill be the traveller's shed, the pilgrim's cot
A place of love for damsels that are coy.

A cunning Artist will I have to frame
A bason for that fountain in the dell;
And they, who do make mention of the same,
From this day forth, shall call it Hart-leap Well.

And, gallant brute, to make thy praises known,
Another monument shall here be raised;
Three several pillars, each a rough hewn stone,
And planted where thy hoofs the turf have grazed.

And in the summer-time when days are long,
I will come hither with my paramour,
And with the dancers, and the minstrel's song,
We will make merry in that pleasant bower.

Till the foundations of the mountains fail
My mansion with its arbour shall endure,
– The joy of them who till the elds of Swale,
And them who dwell among the woods of Ure.’

Then home he went, and left the Hart, stone-dead,
With breathless nostrils stretched above the spring.
And soon the Knight performed what he had said,
The fame whereof through many a land did ring.

Ere thrice the moon into her port had steered,A cup of stone received the living well;
Three pillars of rude stone Sir Walter reared,
And built a house of pleasure in the dell.

And near the fountain, owers of stature tall,
With trailing plants and trees were intertwined,
Which soon composed a little sylvan hall,
A leafy shelter from the sun and wind.

And thither, when the summer days were long,
Sir Walter journeyed with his paramour;
And with the dancers and the minstrel's song
Made merriment within that pleasant bower.

The Knight, Sir Walter, died in course of time,
And his bones lie in his paternal vale.
But there is matter for a second rhyme,
And I to this would add another tale.

[Todd Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

A couple of minor omissions I would’ve liked to see (Simon Lee, for example), but solid collection from one of the best poets ever. I especially like that this includes a healthy selection of The Prelude.

[Alex Kartelias · Rating 5 out of 5]

After skimming through his poetry for 4 years, I've finally read it all the way through. His worship of nature I think should inspire anyone who feels a need to reconnect with God/Nature. The universe spoke through him and his words still vibrate today.

[emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

i probably wouldn't read wordsworth's entire prelude, the shorter version at the end of this collection was long enough. my favourite poems were about his time in france, 'We are Seven', 'She was a phantom of delight' and, 'At Furness Abbey'

[grllopez ~ with freedom and books · Rating 4 out of 5]

Review of selected poems:
https://withfreedomandbooks.blogspot....

[Alexandra · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have mixed feelings about Wordsworth's poetry, mainly because I wasn't expecting so many of his poems to be blank verse, which I really dislike. The majority of his rhyming poems are excellent and a joy to read, but the blank verse poems are a different story for me. I struggled through all of them, especially through the never-ending ballads and the one hundred-page excerpt from "The Prelude" at the end. I found many beautiful poems in this collection, but overall my enjoyment was tainted by the numerous poems written in a style that simply doesn't speak to me at all.

[Niels van Zwol]

Didn't manage to finish the last ~100-page poem from The Prelude. But besides that it has some really nice poems, I especially liked Lines Written in Early Spring and Expostulation and Reply.

[Saksham · Rating 4 out of 5]

For Poetry collections, I often like to just leave one of my fav poem in review

She Was a Phantom of Delight

She was a Phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;
Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin-liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.

[Andrew Ives · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed this book rather less than I had hoped. While Wordsworth is undoubtedly a great writer, he has some peculiar choices for some of his poems' subject matter. I find it completely understandable to write about the splendour of nature, weather, countryside, animals, particular areas of outstanding geographical beauty and even certain people, but when he rambles on at length about individual flowers, rivers or craggy cliffs, I can't help but feeling he has the onset of some kind of poetic madness. If he were alive today, I wonder whether he would write 20-verse odes to ingenious paper clips, miraculous Oyster cards and wondrous Java updates too.

That said, there are a few stand-out 'hit singles' among the experimental album fillers, and I discovered a few masterpieces beyond the most renowned of his works. 3/5

[Dodo P · Rating 4 out of 5]

A rekindled love for Romantic Era poetry through the words of William Wordsworth! This was definitely a small sampling of his works - I really loved several & there were a few of his epic length one that I found hard to keep up with the narrator. I listened to an audiobook version from my library & found it easier to comprehend more fully by googling a print copy to follow along with.
Either way, Wordsworth evokes emotional and sensory reaction and paints beautiful pictures of his travels and experiences.

[Nick Lawrence · Rating 3 out of 5]

“I wondered lonely as a cloud that floats on high o’er vales and hills, when all at once I saw a crowd a host of dancing daffodils.”

I read this back in 2006 whilst trying to become a more cultured individual.

I only know one person who reads poetry for fun. I can’t say that I will start. Poetry isn’t for everyone. I’m sure that person who appreciates poetry more than I, will appreciate this book a lot more.

[Lief · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very enjoyable Romantic poet, deals mostly with subjects that are more realistic and down-to-earth. The class I was in applied the lens of nostalgia/longing to the poems, and that proved to be very enjoyable, so I would recommend doing the same. I also recommend reading in conjunction with Samuel Taylor Coleridge and, to some degree, Keats.

[Alessandro · Rating 4 out of 5]

This edition explanatory notes are pretty bad, mostly consisting in "this poem was composed in XXX" and nothing else, I would have also liked some kind of appendix similar to the ones in Keats' volume, but still...
It's Wordworth.
It's a collection worth reading.

(uhm, pun not intended)

[Cheryl · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wordsworth's poems are absolutely beautiful.

[Mark]

Put on-pause 11 December 2012 although has been on pause since before moving.

[Tina Dalton · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm in love with Wordsworth's writing. I've never been one to like poetry, and now suddenly, I love it. All thanks to him.

[Ernie Starr]

love Heaney so was good to see which ones of these he loved

[James Henderson · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Surprised by joy--impatient as the Wind" These lines encapsulate some of the feeling engendered by these romantic poems of one of Britain's greatest poets.

[Jaclyn · Rating 3 out of 5]

I appreciate Wordsworth as a master of his craft, but also just not my cup of tea.

[Poli]

read: “My Heart Leaps Up” and “Tintern Abbey” 09.03