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Originally Posted by Moshe..  YOu must be amazing at english. I absolutely love wordsworth too and especially that line: "dear god! the very houses seem asleep" . Westminster bridge is so perfectly the feeling when you wake up early and drink too much coffee. I always feel so lonely when I get up before everyone else that sometimes it feels like you're the only person alive and whole world was created especially for you.
Worthsworth is best for appreciating the small pleasures in life and just the miracle of being alive and of the world. You have that feeling where everything ordinary seems magical like when you're a child. Being able to keep that while still adjusting to the mundane demands of the adult life, I think that's the great task about growing up |
Haha, I'm just an English student with a love for British poetry.
I love this line: "This City now doth, like a garment, wear". That's exactly how I feel in the morning...It's like everything's covered by a thin layer of silk. Everything has yet to be touched by humans. There's a serenity and a beauty that is just indescribable. Everything's so quiet and relaxed. And then at the blink of an eye I hear traffic and it's no longer that magical.
He is pretty much the opposite of Blake in that sense, yes. I love how he sees the beauty in everything. Another one of my favourites is Johnathan Swift's
A Description of the Morning:
Now hardly here and there a hackney-coach
Appearing, showed the ruddy morn's approach.
Now Betty from her master's bed had flown,
And softly stole to discompose her own;
And slipshod 'prentice from his master's door
Had pared the dirt, and sprinkled round the floor.
Now Moll had whirled her mop with dext'rous airs,
Prepared to scrub the entry and the stairs.
The youth with broomy stumps began to trace
The kennel-edge, where wheels had worn the place.
The small-coal man was heard with cadence deep,
Till drowned in shriller notes of chimney-sweep.
Duns at his lordship's gate began to meet,
And brickdust Moll had screamed through half a street.
The turnkey now his flock returning sees,
Duly let out a-nights to steal for fees.
The watchful bailiffs take their silent stands,
And schoolboys lag with satchels in their hands.
It was written almost a century before Blake's Chimney Sweeper poems, but it's still so dark and it covers the same topics; corruption, poverty, etc. I always found poetry to be such a beautiful way of expressing yourself. Even though the topics are awful and the stories being told are sad, there's just something about poetry that makes it all sound beautiful. Haha, I can't really describe it.