William Wordsworth's as a Romantic poet

William Wordsworth's poetry exhibits Romantic characteristics and for his treatment
towards romantic elements, he stands supreme and he can be termed a Romantic
poet on a number of reasons. The Romantic Movement of the early nineteenth century
was a revolt against the classical tradition of the eighteenth century; but it was also
marked by certain positive trends. Wordsworth was, of course, a pioneer of the
Romantic Movement of the nineteenth century. With the publication of Lyrical Ballads,
the new trends become more or less established. However, the reasons for why
Wordsworth can be called a Romantic poet are given below:

Imagination: Where the eighteenth century poets used to put emphasis much on wit,
the romantic poets used to put emphasis on imagination. Wordsworth uses imagination
so that the common things could be made to look strange and beautiful through the play
of imagination. In his famous Intimation Ode", it seems to his as to the child "the earth,
and every common sight" seemed "apparelled in celestial light". Here he says,

"There was a time when meadow, grove and stream,

The earth and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light"

Moreover, in this poem, we find a sequence of picture through his use of imagery.
Through his imagination he says,

"The Rainbow come and goes,

And lovely is the Rose,
The Moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare"

Similarly, in the poem, Tintern Abbey, the poet sees the river, the stream, steep and
lofty cliffs through his imaginative eyes. He was enthusiastically charmed at the joyful
sound of the rolling river. Here he says,

"Once again
Do I behold those steep and lofty cliffs
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion and connect
The landscape with quiet of the sky".

In this poem, the poet seems that the nature has a healing power. Even the recollection
of nature soothes the poet's troubled heart. The poet can feel the existance of nature
through imagination even when he is away from her. He says,

"In lonely rooms and mid the din

Of towns and cities, I have owed to them
In hours of weariness, sensation sweet".

Nature: Wordsworth is especially regarded as a poet of nature. In most of the poems of

Wordsworth nature is constructed as both a healing entity and a teacher or moral
guardian. Nature is considered in his poems as a living personality. He is a true
worshiper of nature: nature's devotee or high priest. The critic Cazamian says, "to
Wordsworth, nature appears is a formative influence superior to any other, the educator
of senses or mind alike, the shower in our hearts of the deep laden seeds of our
feelings and beliefs". He dwells with great satisfaction, on the prospects of spending his
time in groves and valleys and on the banks of streams that will lull him to rest with their
soft murmur.

For Wordsworth, nature is a healer and he ascribes healing properties to Nature in

Tintern Abbey . This is a fairly obvious conclusion drawn from his reference to "tranquil
restoration" that his memory of the Wye offered him in lonely rooms and mid the din/Of
towns and cities"

It is also evident in his admonition to Dorothy that she let her

"Memory be as a dwelling-place
For all sweet sounds and harmonies; oh !then
If solitude, or fear, or pain, or grief.
Should be thy portion, with what healing thoughts
Of tender joy wilt thou remember me,
And these my exhortations!

Wordsworth says nature "never did betray the heart that loved her".

Subjectivity: Subjectivity is the key note of Romantic poetry. He expresses his personal
thoughts, feelings through his poems. In Ode: Intimation of Immortality the poet
expresses his own/personal feelings. Here he says that he can't see the celestial light
anymore which he used to see in his childhood. He says,

"It is not now as it hath been of yore;-

Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By might or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see on more."

Nature becomes all in all to the poet. The sounding cataract haunted him like a passion.
Nature was his beloved. He loved only the sensuous beauty of nature. He has also a
philosophy of nature.

Pantheism and mysticism: Pantheism and mysticism are almost interrelated factors in
the Nature poetry of the Romantic period. Wordsworth conceives of a spiritual power
running through all natural objects- the " presence that disturbs me with the low of
elevated thoughts" whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, the rolling ocean. the
living air, the blue sky, and the mind of man (Tintern Abbey)
Humanism: The romantic poets had sincere love for man or rather the spirit of man.
Wordsworth had a superabundant enthusiasm for humanity. He was deeply interested in
the simple village folk and the peasant who live in contact with nature. Wordsworth
showed admiration for the ideals that inspired the French Revolution. Emphasis in
individual freedom is another semantic characteristic. Wordsworth laments for the loss
of power, freedom and virtue of human soul.
Lyricism: Wordsworth is famous for simple fiction, bereft of artificialities and falsity of
emotion. His "Lyrical Ballads" signifies his contention that poetry is the "history or
science of feelings"

In the Ode: Intimation of Immortality, we see his lyricism. He writes,

"Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own:

Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
And, even, with something of a Mother's mind,
And, on unworthy aim,
The homely Nurse doth all she can
To make her Foster-child, her Innate Man,
Forget the glories he hath known,
And that imperial palace whence he came."

In the concluding part, it can be said that Wordsworth was a protagonist in the Romantic
Movement which was at once a revolt and a revival. He shows the positive aspects of
Romanticism with its emphasis on imagination, feeling, emotion, human dignity and
significance of Nature.
Wordsworth shows strong inspiration from nature and the environment around him. His
poem it is a beauteous evening, calm and free is a personal poem written by
Wordsworth which strongly shows his inspiration from nature. As he walks along the
beach he admires the broad sun sinking down in its tranquility. His poetry was very
much inspired by the natural world, which shows that his work was relevant to the
romantic era.
Romanticism (also the Romantic era or the Romantic period) was an artistic, literary,
musical and intellectual movement that originated in Europe toward the end of the 18th
century and in most areas was at its peak in the approximate period from 1800 to 1850.
Romanticism was characterized by its emphasis on emotion and individualism as well
as glorification of all the past and nature, preferring the medieval rather than the
classical. It was partly a reaction to the Industrial Revolution,[1]the aristocratic social and
political norms of the Age of Enlightenment, and the scientific rationalizationof nature.
[2]
It was embodied most strongly in the visual arts, music, and literature, but had a
major impact on historiography,[3]education,[4] and the natural sciences.

Romantic thinkers such as Wordsworth believed that the individual can best
understand themselves and their world when they are isolated from it, apart
from it. The belief that truth and understanding can be understood by the
individual can only happen when the individual is simply that: an individual.
Finally, the expression of the subjective experience is where real truth is
located for Wordsworth and the Romantic thinkers. As opposed to the
Neoclassical period and Enlightenment of scientific inquiry and formal models
that defined existence, the Romantics were animated by the individual and
subjectively emotional experience. When Wordsworth says, "poetry is the
spontaneous overflow of emotions," he deliberately asserts a position that
elevates emotional frames of reference to a higher state than previously
viewed.

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 a 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 Traveler between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warm, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright,
With something of angelic light.

The Solitary Reaper

From Memorials of a Tour in Scotland (1803)

Behold her, single in the field,

Yon solitary Highland Lass!
Reaping and singing by herself;
Stop here, or gently pass!
Alone she cuts and binds the grain,
And sings a melancholy strain;
O listen! for the Vale profound
Is overflowing with the sound.

No Nightingale did ever chaunt

More welcome notes to weary bands
Of travellers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?--

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago:
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang

As if her song could have no ending;
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listened, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.
THE LUCY POEMS

I.

STRANGE fits of passion have I known:

And I will dare to tell,
But in the lover's ear alone,
What once to me befell.

When she I loved look'd every day

Fresh as a rose in June,
I to her cottage bent my way,
Beneath an evening moon.

Upon the moon I fix'd my eye,

All over the wide lea;
With quickening pace my horse drew nigh
Those paths so dear to me.

And now we reach'd the orchard-plot;

And, as we climb'd the hill,
The sinking moon to Lucy's cot
Came near and nearer still.

In one of those sweet dreams I slept,

Kind Nature's gentlest boon!
And all the while my eyes I kept
On the descending moon.

My horse moved on; hoof after hoof

He raised, and never stopp'd:
When down behind the cottage roof,
At once, the bright moon dropp'd.

What fond and wayward thoughts will slide

Into a lover's head!
'O mercy!' to myself I cried,
'If Lucy should be dead!'

II.

SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways

Beside the springs of Dove,
A Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone

Half hidden from the eye!
Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and oh,
The difference to me!

III.

I TRAVELL'D among unknown men,

In lands beyond the sea;
Nor, England! did I know till then
What love I bore to thee.

'Tis past, that melancholy dream!

Nor will I quit thy shore
A second time; for still I seem
To love thee more and more.

Among the mountains did I feel

The joy of my desire;
And she I cherish'd turn'd her wheel
Beside an English fire.

Thy mornings show'd, thy nights conceal'd,

The bowers where Lucy play'd;
And thine too is the last green field
That Lucy's eyes survey'd.

IV.

THREE years she grew in sun and shower;

Then Nature said, 'A lovelier flower
On earth was never sown;
This child I to myself will take;
She shall be mine, and I will make
A lady of my own.

'Myself will to my darling be

Both law and impulse; and with me
The girl, in rock and plain,
In earth and heaven, in glade and bower,
Shall feel an overseeing power
To kindle or restrain.

'She shall be sportive as the fawn

That wild with glee across the lawn
Or up the mountain springs;
And hers shall be the breathing balm,
And hers the silence and the calm
Of mute insensate things.

'The floating clouds their state shall lend

To her; for her the willow bend;
Nor shall she fail to see
Even in the motions of the storm
Grace that shall mould the maiden's form
By silent sympathy.

'The stars of midnight shall be dear

To her; and she shall lean her ear
In many a secret place
Where rivulets dance their wayward round,
And beauty born of murmuring sound
Shall pass into her face.

'And vital feelings of delight

Shall rear her form to stately height,
Her virgin bosom swell;
Such thoughts to Lucy I will give
While she and I together live
Here in this happy dell.'

Thus Nature spake -- The work was done --

How soon my Lucy's race was run!
She died, and left to me
This heath, this calm and quiet scene;
The memory of what has been,
And never more will be.

V.

SLUMBER did my spirit seal;

I had no human fears:
She seem'd a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.

No motion has she now, no force;

She neither hears nor sees;
Roll'd round in earth's diurnal course,

With rocks, and stones, and trees.

Lucy Gray - Solitude

Oft had I heard of Lucy Gray,
And when I cross'd the Wild,
I chanc'd to see at break of day
The solitary Child.

No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew;

She dwelt on a wide Moor,
The sweetest Thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the Fawn at play,

The Hare upon the Green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

"To-night will be a stormy night,

You to the Town must go,
And take a lantern, Child, to light
Your Mother thro' the snow."

"That, Father! will I gladly do;

'Tis scarcely afternoon ---
The Minster-clock has just struck two,
And yonder is the Moon."

At this the Father rais'd his hook

And snapp'd a faggot-band;
He plied his work, and Lucy took
The lantern in her hand.

Not blither is the mountain roe;

With many a wanton stroke
Her feet disperse the powd'ry snow
That rises up like smoke.

The storm came on before its time,

She wander'd up and down,
And many a hill did Lucy climb
But never reach'd the Town.

The wretched Parents all that night

Went shouting far and wide;
But there was neither sound nor sight
To serve them for a guide.

At day-break on a hill they stood

That overlook'd the Moor;
And thence they saw the Bridge of Wood
A furlong from their door.

And now they homeward turn'd, cry'd,

"In Heaven we all shall meet!"
When in the snow the Mother spied
The print of Lucy's feet.

Then downwards from the steep hill's edge

They track'd the footmarks small;
And through the broken hawthorn-hedge,
And by the long stone-wall;

And then an open field they cross'd:

The marks were still the same;
They track'd them on, nor ever lost,
And to the Bridge they came.

They follow'd from the snowy bank

Those footmarks, one by one,
Into the middle of the plank,
And further there were none.

Yet some maintain that to this day

She is a living Child,
That you may see sweet Lucy Gray
Upon the lonesome Wild.
O'er rough and smooth she trips along,
And never looks behind;
And sings a solitary song
That whistles in the wind.