“The Psycho-Aesthetics of Romantic Moonshine: Wordsworth’s Profane Illumination” by Geoffrey Hartman is an article with a frightening title, but is filled with in-depth explanations of Wordsworth poem “Strange Fits of Passion I Have Known”, furthermore describing Wordsworth style of poetic writing and view on everyday, rural life. The poem, “Strange Fits of Passion I Have Known” is only one of the several Lucy Poems that Wordsworth wrote in the second volume of Lyrical Ballads. This poem can be taken in many ways; straightforward vs. not straightforward, real vs. surreal and naturalism vs. supernaturalism. The poem starts out with a lover riding on horse back in the moonlight to his beloved in her cottage (Lucy.) At the end, the poetic-lover has a final cry when the moon drops behind Lucy’s cottage; he fears that his beloved is dead. “Oh mercy, to myself I cried/ If Lucy should be dead!” (II 27-8). Hartman says about the poetic-lover’s final cry, “What is not straightforward is that the narrator’s “evening ride” or “walking cure” to cite Celeste Langan’s witty concept (225-271), ends in the final cry of distress that places a special burden on interpretation.” He distinctly says this because the final cry is ultimately the “strange fit”, however the “strange fit” can be viewed in several different ways, which seems to be what Wordsworth was going for with his readers.

The Lucy poems are a group of poems by Williams Wordsworth and Samuel Coleridge that are about a woman Lucy, but “Lucy” is not just a woman. She is viewed as the spirit of the place she inhabits. In the poem “Strange Fits of Passion I Have Known”, it only suggests that Lucy is dead, but in the other Lucy poems, it justifies that Lucy does truly die. It makes the most sense that Lucy in this poem, portrays the poet’s sense of country side and rural environment. She is the Spirit of Nature that has remained mute and unknown. The thought the poetic-lover has that Lucy is dead, is not just about a dead woman. It is Wordsworth foreshadowing through his poetry the death of the rural environments ability to influence our imagination. The hidden beauty in nature that fuels are imagination will be forgotten and our imaginations will be dull. To analyze and pursue deeper into this poem, notice that the poetic-lover has the thought that Lucy is dead once the moon becomes hidden behind the cottage, what importance does the moon have to this poem? Nature’s beauty (the moon) pulls the lover into almost a trance-like hypnosis. “In one of the sweet dreams I slept/ Kind Nature’s gentlest boon!” (ll 17-18) This passage justifies that the lover is in a trance, through stanzas 5 and 6 the poem continues to describe the lover’s condition. Once the moon disappears, the lover falls out of the trance and back to reality. A mental defense is removed which causes the sudden fear of death to appear, and the lover begins to show anxiety. If this is the case, than the poem is about the mind, rather than action itself. Like all poetry, this poem does not have to “make sense.” “I have already admitted that the boundary between sense and non-sense is not a bright line.” This is what Hartman says about the poem. If we use our imagination when reading this poem we can say that the poetic-lover connects the moons disappearance with Lucy. He raises her, to be all sublime and be equal with the moon. If Lucy represents the moon, than the moon exists both in the mortal and sublunar realm and Lucy appears to be mortal and immortal (also existing in both realms.) As nature reveals its self, the thought of Lucy’s mortality appears and the moon-inspired spell on the lover is broken by the voice from a sublunar realm amplified through the sublimity of the landscape, replacing the previously dominant moon in its imaginative effect (Hartman pg 12). This means that the mute voice of nature is being heard when the spell breaks, and a whole new imagination can begin to excel and fill people’s mind. Almost like a wake up call to the world that is stuck in this “trance” of dull or hidden imagination. This explanation of the poem is definitely a stretch, but the message Wordsworth is trying to convey still comes across, using a part of the imagination that may even seem to be non-sensible. I have found that a lot of Wordsworth writings, or Romanticism poetry in general, seems to be full of hidden messages and when reading this type of poetry, imagination is key to understanding the deeper meanings.

Robert M. Ryan of Rutgers University wrote a paper comparing Wordsworthian philosophy and Darwin philosophy. It is called "Wordsworth's Response to Darwin". A fitting title in my opinion. The basic idea can be summed up in one sentence as it compared the difference in how these two influential men saw nature. Wordsworth viewed nature as almost a religion, while Darwin viewed nature as science. A quote can help add influence to Robert’s view of Wordsworth, "Wordsworth rarely concerned himself with questions of the origin or history of creation. He was interested in testifying to his own experience of a divine Presence immanent in Nature, whose reality, benevolence, and moral intent he never doubted". Nature is important to both of these men. As the quote above stated, Wordsworth believed that Nature was more of a faith and did not need all the answers because he knew Nature was there. Darwin needed science as a way to prove and express his findings about evolution.

Both of these men lived in the same time period, however Wordsworth died in 1850. Nine years later, Darwin published his book, On the Origin of Species. This created some havoc as Wordsworthian philosophy (thinking of nature more as a faith and religion) conflicted in some ways with this radical new scientific idea. While Darwin was off learning about nature from his voyages on the H. M. S. Beagle, Wordsworth was writing poetry and shaping peoples opinions on nature based on said poetry.  At first there was not enough evidence to support Darwin’s theory and thus it was ridiculed. It was years later before people started believing that Evolution could be possible and that humans could have evolved as well. Many people had just started believing in something other than the Catholic church and  many didn’t want to consider that there was nothing divine in this world. That’s what many of these people saw in Darwin’s book. Most of Darwin’s own family were Wordsworthians, including his daughter, Henrietta. It was said “Wordsworth was her religion”. In many of Wordsworth poems, and many other romantic poets poems, nature is a common topic. Often, nature is commonly used as an analogy for humans and human characteristics. This suggests that Wordsworth and the other romantic poets felt something special in nature. Robert says “Wordsworth saw it as his own primary mission to ‘spiritualize’ the appearances of nature. At this profound level, no two visions of nature could be more different. To those who were dismayed by Darwin’s representation of nature as a random, brutal, apparently godless product of natural selection with no bonus of meaning beyond its physical or organic functions, Wordsworth’s prestige as a religious teacher and a reputable authority on the life of nature offered what seemed a legitimate, culturally respectable alternative”/ Another thing Robert points out in his article was a quote by Huxley, that if Wordsworth was to leave “latitude 50 North” and take a walk through a tropical jungle, his opinion on nature might change. This is to say, that Wordsworth would be shocked at what he saw in nature and would have to fight for his survival. In my own personal opinion I disagree. I believe that if Wordsworth (or any of the romantic poets) were to take a walk through a jungle, yes they might be miserable from the heat and bugs, but they would also see the beauty in that. Just because something may not be “perfect” to humans on one level does not mean it wont be “perfect” on another level. I believe Wordsworth would see that nature is perfect here. He may not want to live there as his type of lifestyle would not agree with a tropical jungle, Wordsworth would strengthen his opinion on nature from that voyage. Possibly even have more material to write poetry on because of that expedition. In November, 1859 when Darwin published his book, he sent a copy to his old friend and mentor Adam Sedgwick. Sedwicks response to the book is an interesting one. Robert said, “As a scientist he understood the full importance of Darwin’s argument and as a priest he was sensitive to its religious implications”.  Robert also calls attention to an article in 1864, Reverend John Campbell Shairp, Professor of Poetry at Oxford from 1877 to 1884 wrote “Whereas to most men the material world is a heavy, gross, dead mass, earth a ball of black mud, painted here and there with some color, Wordsworth felt it to be a living, breathing power, not dead, but full of strange life”. Readers of the poetry, he said, “caught, as they read, a glimpse into the life of things such as no other poet of these days has given them”. Robert ends with a question. “There are at this moment walking nature trails in America who connect the outdoor life with moral virtue and even with religious inspiration. There are people walking these Lake District fells who harbor the same sublime sentiments. There are people at the Wordsworth summer conference, perhaps, who sometimes find themselves communing with nature. With what are they communing?” An interesting question. I will end my post the same way. If you feel so inclined, post what you thing they are communing with in the comments.

It is the day before Winter Break, and I am stuck sitting in class. All I can think about is what will be happening during the break. All day long I dream of the wonders of Christmas. I think about the smells of fresh baked apple pie, and the pine tree sitting in the living room. I find myself seemingly unable to think about anything other than than these irresistible, warm, fresh smells coming from the kitchen. My teacher hands me a worksheet to complete by the end of the day, But i just continue to dream of the relaxing food filled break that is ahead of me.

"The Headless Boyfriend" and interesting name for a blog if you don't mind me saying. For someone who does not know what it refers to, it would be even stranger. Created by Cody Schaffer, Lauren Fleskes and Geoffery Braught. The basic design is good. There is nice color flow and easy to read text. I enjoy the simplicity of the header. There are good pictures and content, however it appears that, aside from the very beginning, only one person uses this blog now. That being, Cody. Lauren was the first to post something, and Geoffery after her, but after that, nothing has been posted by either of those people since.

It is interesting to me that they chose to do an entire blog on a single poem. That appears hard to me. Then again, the poem the chose is big enough to find many thing to talk about. From the content of the poem to its influences on the world, to even a post completely on basil!

I enjoyed the post "Why Basil" as it gave me some new information on that herb that I commonly use while making soup. Gave me a sense of "Huh, I did not know that before now" feeling. I also enjoyed the fact that Cody linked to more content on Basil at the end of his post. I think it is always a good idea to link to more information when you are talking about something like that. Your post can often peak the interest and linking to more content helps the reader satisfy that interest without having to go research on his/her own.

This blog gives lots of good information on the poem. If someone asked me where to find more information on said poem, I would recommend this blog because it gives lots of varying information on the poem. Its not just talking about what the poem means, as many similar sites do. This blog contains information on the poem from many areas.

If the other two authors were to post as well, I believe this blog could have enough content to satisfy someone interested in the poem. Aside from that little flaw, I see no reason this blog should not be widely viewed. It has plenty of content and information to help someone in their understanding of the poem and has an appealing view, in terms of layout and color scheme. If this were a regularly updated blog, I would consider bookmarking it in my commonly visited blog folder to read the new content when it came out.

Back before Wordsworth and other romantic poets were alive, the Catholic Faith was a major power in the European world. Everyone believed the word of God and few questioned it. Then the masses became more educated and learning was a skill that more people acquired. They began reading the bible and realizing that some of the things they heard in church were not real. "Actually we don't have to pay to protect ourselves and our loved ones!" and similar things. People started questioning the Church and the Catholic Faith. By the time the Romantic Poets came along, lots of people could read and lots of people believed many things.

Wordsworth commonly wrote about Nature. For him, Nature was his Faith. His religion. Many people read his poetry and followed his thoughts. In Thomas Henry Huxly's essay "Wordsworth in the Tropics" he says, "In the neighborhood of latitude fifty north, and for the last hundred years or thereabouts, it has been an axiom that Nature is divine and morally uplifting. For good Wordsworthians -- and most serious-minded people are now Wordsworthians, either by direct inspiration or at second hand -- a walk in the country is equivalent to going to church, a tour through Westmorland is as good as a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. To commune with the fields and waters, the woodlands and the hills, is to commune, according to our modern and northern ideas, with the visible manifestations of the 'Wisdom and Spirit of the Universe.' " Let me just say that the fact that us students decided to call ourselves Wordsworthians before even coming to terms with what that really meant (and that it was an actual term (which is awesome)). But I digress. Nature is a important part of a lot of peoples lives. It is not uncommon for people to say they went out into nature and felt at awe with the beauty they saw. Is that awe feeling because we are in the presence of something greater than ourselves? and if so, what is that greater being? Is it Mother Nature herself or even the Christan God himself?

For as long as I can remember, my father would commonly take me for a drive up the Columbia river Gorge. At first, I didn't enjoy these trips very much. However, as I grew older, I started appreciating these trips more and more. I began to feel that sense of awe when I was in the presence of Nature. A couple years ago, I was camping with my grandfather at Lake Timothy, at night I walked down to the lake and looked up. What I saw almost made me fall to my knees. There were so many stars in the sky. I felt such a sense of awe when I looked up into that sky. I felt so small and tiny. I was filled with joy, it was almost a feeling of high, and the sky was my drug. I have longed for that feeling.

 What is it that gives us humans that sense of joy when we see the beauty of nature? Is it perfection that we will never see anywhere else? Or are we really in the presence of a being? Was it just that feeling that we are small and part of something so much bigger than ourselves? When Wordsworth talked about Nature being his faith and religion, was he truly believing in a Deity of nature or did he just not have the scientific knowledge to understand that perfection on Nature that we have today? Maybe he believed in a Deity because they are considered to be perfect, and Nature was perfect. Did he sense that awe in people and, being unable to describe it the way we can now, did he use the knowledge he did have and relate it to religion?

Maybe I am over speculating, but Wordsworth believed there was something special about Nature. I believe he was right. Nature is special and I have felt that sense of awe. I do not worship Nature and I don't believe Wordsworth wanted people to. Like the article quote above, sometimes just walking through Nature and experiencing it is all it takes to get that sense and that joy. Every time I can get out to the wilderness and look into the sky I get that feeling of high. In the city we are covered. Its only when you are out where nothing can get in your way do you see all the lights and stars. Or is it really something more?

I decided to review the blog Blake Is My Homie created by Megan Townley, Ethan Palioca and Maria Castllanos from period 3. I decided to review this blog because I don't know a lot about Blake.

The Tree of Memories and Futures

Its the day before Christmas and I still have lots to do. I plug in the lights and our tree comes to life. I lose track of time as I gaze at that tree, looking at all the ornaments, I smile for this brings back many memories.

The white clay stars which were molded years ago. My mother and I made them. There are little wooden men, made for cracking nuts. They hang from a branch now, the paint on them starting to chip. The lights on the tree, gleam off the pieces of tin. Lots of designs on those pieces of tin, from socks, to Santa and Angles. All these remind me of my family, and how much I care for them. I would not be the person I am today, were it not for my family.

The smell of evergreen makes me look up. Look! The bells, many colors and many sizes all hanging from golden string. The star at the top, lit in all its glory. The bells make me think, of something I once heard. That bells ring to remind you of those gone. I think of all the people who I miss, those who passed, and those that were taken. A tear rises to my eye as I smile and reminisce the good times I have experienced with them, and how much more I with I had.

As I gaze around, taking in all the sights and memories, my eye catches a new addition. From a very good friend, who's memories are both good and bad, she gave me a little drum set, hanging from some twine. The bass and the snare sitting together, and the hi-hat at the edge, the little cymbals actually clang when I tap them. Friends and friendship mean a lot to me, and even though they don't always help, friends are there to make the effort. I care and they care. Seems like a fair agreement.

As my eyes continue through the tree I decide to look down. There under this thin Douglas Fur sit the gifts wrapped and bagged. The ribbons and the paper, both tissue and wrapping, makes me wonder whats inside. I think of what is to come, am I really still so young? Life is finite and I still have so much to do, my future within my grasp. I make a vow, there at that tree, before the new years come. I must make more of my life, with experiences and pleasures of all sizes. I think about collage, I think about a wife, I think about my possible career, is movies really my dream? I still have so much to do and I wont let things keep me down when I know they should not. No more sitting and dreaming, its time to take action.

I snap back to reality as my dog licks my hand, the slime and coldness makes me shudder as I laugh and pat her head. I look back at the tree one last time, full of memories and futures. "What will the new year bring?" I ask myself, only time will tell. Then again, its the day before Christmas, and I still have lots to do.

I WANDER'D 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 stretch'd 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.

The poem starts out being very gloomy, he seams sad or lonely. Then he thinks of a field of daffodils and is instantly cheered up be the amazing appearance of his vision. “I wandered lonely as a cloud”, until he sees a field of daffodils, “When all at once I saw a crowd, / A host, of golden daffodils.” The cloud is representing his gloomy, sad feeling in the beginning, the flowers representing joy because they are full of color. He is imagining this beautiful field of flowers which is cheering him up from his sadness. William Wordsworth did a very nice job in capturing the image of the field of flowers and making us imagine it. Wordsworth writes this poem to show us how powerful nature can be and how it can change our mood if we take a break and enjoy it. At the very end of the poem he says: "For oft, when on my coach I lie In vacant or 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" This make me think that this whole field of flowers is a vision that is being used to distract him and help lighten his mood. This poem shows the true power of the imagination and nature.

I chose to read and explore the blog, A young persons view on Williams Wordsworth, from the period 4 class. The writers of this blog are; Reed Martin, Megan Nelson, Kody Oldham and Cameron Gray. Their topic is about Williams Wordsworth as well, and it was interesting to learn more and see new perspectives on his work. A Young Persons view on Williams Wordsworth, consists of poems analysis's that I quite enjoyed reading.

Here is the blog: A Young Persons view on William Wordsworth

Their blog is set up nice and easy to read. When I looked at the blog to write this review, there was two posts, so my blog review will be about one of the analysis of the poems. I liked reading the analysis of the poems because I haven't read those poems by Williams Wordsworth and it was interesting to see how another person interpreted his writing. The poem analysis about Andrew Jones, struck me as very interesting. I like how Reed explains the poem, and portrays what Wordsworth is telling us throughout the poem. He tells the story that happens in the poem that is intriguing and pulls me in. Then he begins to talk about the type of person Andrew Jones is, and why people judge him by something cruel that he did. My favorite part of Reeds explanation is when he says "There is always an Andrew Jones in the world, or society we put ourselves in." Because we all know someone who we judge by something they have done or that we have done ourselves, and have been judged because of it. This happens a lot especially in high school, and especially between teenage girls. This quote makes it easy for me to see what Wordsworth is explaining through this poem. Reed then ends his analysis by relating the poem to a particular time in his life. By doing that, he sets up a nice image in my head of what Wordsworth is really trying to explain and get across in this poem.

This is a great blog to read, if you like learning about William Wordsworth poetry, and hearing another view on his poems : Andrew Jones and Perfect Women. This blog provides a clear understanding of the two poems and how you can relate them to life today. There are two biographies of the blog writer themselves, which gives a good insight as to why they are writing about William Wordsworth.

DESIDERIA


by: William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

SURPRISED by joy -- impatient as the Wind
I turned to share the transport -- O! with whom
But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recall'd thee to my mind--
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss? -- That thought's return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

A short but simple poem. Like all poetry you must read it multiple times to find some meaning to it. That being said, again like all poetry, there is more than one possible meaning. To find the meaning, I had to break it down. So lets break it down and find said meaning.

Winter Break

I have longed for this break since the first day of school. The wonderful two and a half week break from the awful, dreaded school. Sitting in class, “only 30 more minutes until Winter break!” my friend yells. Smells of fresh-baked cookies, Christmas trees, popcorn buckets, and home-made recipes start to dance around my nose. Finally. The clock strikes 2:30, free at last! No more homework, no more stressful nights, no more projects to procrastinate on, no more papers to write, no more Wordswork, no more spell check. All there is to do is to enjoy a holiday break and stuff our faces with an amount of food we didn’t think was possible to go into our bodies.
Oh wait. Silly, Silly, Silly, Me.
Did I forget we were assigned a blog project over the break? All those school requirements, I thought we were free from, are still here? Does this mean days will be spent on writing a reading response which is worth too much of a percentage of my grade? Oh! and I must have forgotten about the giant soccer tournament I’m going to five days after Christmas. Does this mean eating healthy all break? Having soccer practice twice a week, on Christmas Eve’s Eve? Going on runs, and making sure none of my relatives get me sick?
Now look where I am. My laptop and English papers surround my bed, where I sit in the center. Dayquil and Kleenex are my best friends, because of course, my good deed of babysitting my two-year old sick cousin back-fired on me. The worries and stressful nights of finishing this school project fill my head, Again! Oh! and the sweet smells of fresh-baked cookies, Fresh pine, home-made recipes, and popcorn buckets are non-tangible, due to a stuffy nose.
Merry Christmas.

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 leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but 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.

This slightly creepy, but interesting video, is a poem about Daffodils. After researching some articles and re-reading the poem several times, I have come to learn that Wordsworth wrote this poem about the time when he was walking through a field of Daffodils with his sister, Dorothy. In this poem the first line says "I wandered lonely as a cloud" (which is also the alternate title for this poem) this line is false though, because he was in fact with his sister. This is proven because in Dorothy's journal, she writes about this walk with her brother. She also mentions how the Daffodils are dancing and how they seem to be laughing in the wind. Wordsworth includes these lines in his poem (stanza 2, line 6; stanza 4, line 6.) They were walking next to the waterside, and that's why Wordsworth says "besides the lake.." and "The waves besides them danced." Wordsworth may start out the poem with, "I wandered lonely as a cloud" because he wants to set up an image in the readers head. Wordsworth is known for using a lot of imagery and seeing beauty in a different way then most people, especially in the times that he wrote the poem. He is setting up this beautiful scene for the readers to have in their mind of the Daffodils that Wordsworth him self saw. There may or may not be a deeper meaning to this poem, as I see it, this is a poem about beauty and the way Wordsworth describes this scene is unique to any other poet. This is why he was such a popular poet and how Romanticism started. Lets look up the definition for Romanticism...

romanticism(ro·man·ti·cism)
Promanticism:/rōˈmantəˌsizəm, rə-, roʊˈmæn(t)əˌsɪzəm/
noun
1 (often Romanticism)a movement in the arts and literature that originated in the late 18th century, emphasizing inspiration, subjectivity, and the primacy of the individual.

Look at the last part of the definition, "emphasizing inspiration, subjectivity and the primacy of an individual" Wordsworth included all these definitions in his poem. He was inspired by the field of Daffodils to write the poem, and he writes the poem in a way so the reader can see what Wordsworth himself saw of the Daffodils in the field by the waterside.

Wordsworth loved Daffodils and their beauty. This could be the reason that when his beloved daughter died, he made a garden full of beautiful Daffodils in her name. The garden was called Dora's Fields. It seems as if he wanted his daughter that he loved so dearly, to be remembered by something as beauteous as herself.

William Wordsworth was the second of five children born on April 7th, 1770. His father, Sir John Lowther, made fair money which enabled his family to have a higher-standard living style. Wordsworth and his family lived in Cockermouth, a west Cumbrian town. Possibly because of his fathers absence, young Wordsworth became off-put and estranged from other children and people (with the exception of one of his sisters.) His parents then sent him, at six years of age, to live with his grandparents in the northern Cumbrian town of Penrith. There he attended a local school. His grandparents were said to be mean authority figures, and they did not help the emotional development of Wordsworth at all. Soon after this, Wordsworth mother died in 1778. This affected Wordsworth, and his emotional status as well. He became even more off-put and preferred to be alone most of the time. Due to his mothers death, Sir John Lowther could not take care of the rest of the kids any longer, and sent them off to live with several other people. After the year of his mothers death, Wordswoth was sent to a grammar school in the town of Hawkshead, close to Windermere. Him and his brothers were boarded with a couple in their sixties, and Wordsworth sister was sent to live with foster parents, away from the rest of her family. Then, in 1783, Sir John Lowther died. This affected Wordsworth of course, and his emotional state was made even worse. With his father and mothers death, his sister (the only person he was close to) moved away, switched around from several house holds, it is no surprise that Wordsworth graduated from Cambridge University, in October 1787, with having no academic goals or an idea of what he wanted to do with his life. He was in emotional distress. This could lead to the sudden idea, for Wordsworth to take a walking tour of France and Switzerland, in the year, 1790. Wordsworth was greatly impressed and inspired by the scenery and the politics of the emerging French Republican cause, which he later writes about in sections of The Prelude. After returning back to London, to attend meetings to support the French Republican movement, he then went to France, where he stayed in Paris for a little while. There, he fell in love with a women by the name of, Annette Vallon. Her parents did not approve of Wordsworth, and tried to ban their daughter from seeing him. But, shortly after Wordsworth returned to England, Annette gave birth to their daughter, Caroline, on December 15th, 1792. Wordsworth lived on the coastal line of London, in hope to return to his newly born daughter and the love of his life. But, this journey was not possible, due to the war between the two countries. Two years later in 1794, Wordsworth was reunited with his sister. The decided to live together in a cottage called "Racedown", where they could pay through the proceeds, from the small legacy left to William by Raisley Calvert (a sick friend of Wordsworth that he took care of until his friends death.) Samuel Coleridge became a regular visitor and a close friend to William Wordsworth. Here the two close friends wrote the famous, Lyrical Ballads. He later stayed with the Huthinson family, along with his sister and Coleridge. They lived on a farm near Stock-On-Tees. Wordsworth was overwhelmed by the beauty of the country side, and he knew he wanted to live in such a place as soon as possible. After his short stay as the farm, he rented a cottage again (Dove Cottage) with his sister. Mary Hutchinson became a big part of Wordsworth life, and before they got married, he decided to go to France and visit Annette and Caroline (in the summer of 1802.) Their visit was noted as friendly and they parted on good terms. After this, Mary and William got married. They had three children, and moved around several times. One of the house caused two of the youngest children to die. Their final home was Rydal Mount, where they moved in 1813. Wordsworth writings had gain some recognition, and he begun to make some money off of them. He continued his writings and popular poems came out such as; The Excursion, The White Doe of Rylstone, Peter Bell and Benjamin the Waggoner. His sister became seriously ill in 1829, not just physically but mentally as well. For the rest of her life she was required constant care and attention. His good friend Coleridge died in 1859, but the two had parted, in 1812, along with Mary years later, due to Wordsworth drug abuse and erratic behavior. In 1843 his beloved daughter Dora died. It was heard that Wordsworth spent that last years of his life wandering the countryside and taking care of his garden (which was named after his daughter, "Dora's Fields".) He died on April 23, 1850. Suffering from the common cold. Williams Wordsworth opened up a whole new era of poetry. His views on nature and the rural countryside made his writings unique and popular. He inspired poets and painters all over the world, and even still to this day.

The two websites I used for this biography:
Website number one
Website number two

The Thorn By Williams Wordsworth