All things that love the sun are out of doors;
The sky rejoices in the morning’s birth;
The grass is bright with rain-drops;—on the moors
The hare is running races in her mirth;
And with her feet she from the plashy earth
Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun,
Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.
– from Resolution and Independence
William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850) was born into an England riding the waves of Empire. His father was a well-connected lawyer, and the Wordsworths were big fish in a fairly small pond. The children grew up in England’s Lake District, where William and his sister Dorothy took to reading and writing very early. As a boy, the young Wordsworth would learn sections of Shakespeare and Spenser by heart. An oft-emotional child, Wordsworth’s life was upended when his mother died in 1778, and he was sent – with his brothers – to Grammar School, while Dorothy was shipped off to relatives for the remainder of her childhood.
Continue reading “023. POEMS and THE PRELUDE by William Wordsworth (1798)” →