Recent Event Highlights: William Cowper "His Mothers Picture" Poem animation, "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth (poetry reading), Anecdote for Fathers - William Wordsworth, "The World is Too Much With Us" by William Wordsworth (poetry reading), "Upon Westminster Bridge" by William Wordsworth (poetry reading), "The Lost Leader" by Robert Browning (poetry reading), and 32 more...
Created by dipity on Feb 3, 2010
Last updated: 08/13/10 at 08:14 AM
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This digital story briefly explains the origins of "the Lucy Poems" written by William Wordsworth in the early 19th century. The story focuses on the poem, "She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways" which was written by Wordsworth in 1799.
As Abe Lincoln said, "For those who like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing they like." This is Wordsworth's most famous poem and, in fact, one of the most famous poems in English literature so I can't just ignore it. It has been inflicted on generations of hapless schoolchildren. A collection of Daffodils is more a "patch" than a "crowd" or a "host" - except if they're in a "never-ending line", when perhaps "row" would be more appropriate. The line will of course not be "never-ending" and it's nowhere near as big as the Milky Way because man, that's like, really humungous: anyway he lost my credulity when he claimed to be able to count ten-thousand at a glance. I have to mention that daffodils are not golden, they're yellow and they can't dance. The notion that daffodils or waves have human emotions such as glee or jocundity or that clouds can be lonely is called "The Pathetic Fallacy", an expression coined by John Ruskin. en.wikipedia.org If your heart dances when you're lying on your couch then it's probably atrial fibrillation; not serious in itself but keep a phone in reach and remember to tell your doctor who will arrange an electrocardiogram. The word "sprightly" is used these days to describe a certain sort of old man. My wife has my permission to stifle me with a pillow if anybody ever calls me "sprightly". Still, who am I to criticise, if daffodils or this poem fills your heart with pleasure and makes it dance? Let me give Honest Abe the last word too, "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
A journey into Wordsworth's mind and the process of creation. We know about the experiments that have led to great scientific discoveries is widely recognised. But how much do we understand about the same processes in the arts? When the poet William Wordsworth died in 1850, few if none of the thousands of lines of poetry he left had escaped constant revision and alteration, and many of his most famous poems were never published. Cambridge researcher Ruth Abbott draws on the notebooks in which he left them to investigate the creative processes, attempts, and failures that go up to make great works of art.
'Lyrical Ballads' was a highly influential book of Romantic poetry (Coleridge contributed to it with 'The Rime of the Ancient Mariner'). Here an actor reads Wordsworth's 'Anecdote for Fathers'. Luckdial's book can be found at www.amazon.co.uk
Wordsworth's poem was written on September 3rd, 1802. The painting of the old Westminster Bridge from the North on Lord Mayor's Day was by Canaletto in 1746. The original Westminster Palace was destroyed by fire in 1834 and the familiar Houses of Parliament were built over over next 30 years. The present Westminster Bridge opened in 1862. Wordsworth's portrait was by Sir William Boxall. EARTH has not anything to show 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 fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour 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!
This is about William Wordsworth's apostasy to the Liberal/Radical cause of which he was formerly the leading light. Wordworth had become Poet Laureate - the riband to stick in his coat - and a supporter of the establishment and the Tories. Browning did deny that it was aimed at Wordsworth or any particular person but the inspiration is obvious. The first line seems to compare him with Judas Iscariot who sold out Jesus for a handful of silver. Sorry but I make a mess misreading the last two lines on the first page. Please forgive me. The relationship between Browning and Wordsworth was so intense and involved that John Haydn Baker found enough material for a book with that title, which can be previewed on Google Books: tinyurl.com The last portrait is of William Wordsworth.
In the final part I get to read some of my favourite poems as well as originals from the audience. And Destry reads originals plus John Donne. You'll hear part of The Ballad of Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde, Batter my Heart by Donne, A Moment by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge, plus She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways by William Wordsworth. Originals from the audience are by Asylum Jewel, Huckleberry Hax, Morgue mcmillan, Corwyn Allen and Sabreman Carter.
The most important thing about this poem is that it didn't actually happen. It reflects Wordsworth's sentimental view of the world: it wasn't a real incident. He was inspired by a grave which bore the inscription - "We are Seven" in the Church yard in Conway, North Wales. It would be an astonishing coincidence if he actually met a girl near Conway who used exactly the same words. The first lines were apparently contributed by his friend Coleridge, but changed later to remove the "Brother Jim" reference perhaps because "Brother Jim" told him, "There is one poem in it which I earnestly entrate you will cancel, for, if published, it will make you ever lastingly ridiculous." "Girl on a Footbridge" was painted by Alexej Harlamoff (1842-1922)
A poem by William Wordsworth
This video is from the 2009 Poetry Out Loud competition, which is a national competition presented by the National Endowment for the Arts. My performance here was for the regional competition. This is my rendition of "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by the great Romanticist poet William Wordsworth. This poem is commonly known as the "Daffodil Poem" also. Wordsworth believed that poetry was not something to be reworked and perfected; instead he believed it was a immense overflow of sudden emotion. I tried to capture this spontaneity with my inflection and slight dramatization. ENJOY!!
Excerpt
... Robert Southey was a Poet Laureate at that time. He had asked William Wordsworth to give an advice on one of his poems. William Wordsworth wrote the letter in response to a request by Southey. In the letter Wordsworth made several suggestions for Southey's...
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The worshiper of Nature decries the increasing detachment of Man from the divinity of Nature
An original Poem Royalty Free Music 'Somewhere Sunny' from www.incompetech.com © by Twish1999. All rights reserved. Any unauthorised broadcasting, public performance, copying or re-recording will constitute an infringement of copyright.
With bonus poems by Gerard Manley Hopkins and Ogden Nash. I have no proof that Wordsworth's nickname actually was Bumface, but with that chin I could well believe it. It's a silly little pome, too. Hopkins' contribution is surprisingly uncharitable coming from a fellow God-Botherer like him. Ogden Nash is in good form, but he should be more troubled by the thought that the guy who'll eventually seduce his infant daughter might not be a baby but already pubescent.
Mutability means time's inexorable demolition. He didn't mean mutation in the genetic sense because he believed in the Bible and not in evolution. Anyway, "On the Origin of Species" wasn't published until nine years after he died. An Evolutionary Philosopher would draw different conclusions. Dissolution meant that things dissolve and disperse, as in "The Dissolution of the Monasteries." I dont think he meant dissipated, or any moral disintegration. Similarly he uses "awful" as Kipling did in, "God of out fathers, known of old, Lord of our far-flung battle line, beneath whose awful hand we hold dominion over palm and pine." Melancholy didn't necessarily mean despondency or dejection. In Milton's "Il Penseroso", which means "The Thinking Man" he concludes, "These pleasures Melancholy give and I with thee will choose to live." This is a very well-made sonnet and it represents Wordsworth at his best. To precis as best I can, Decline and fall is constant but it has a certain sad melody, a rhythm which is right and natural. People who are dishonest, unkind or broody are unhappy because they're not in harmony with the natural way of things. (Eastern philosophies like Buddhism and Taoism say the same thing.) Truth is immutable and it doesn't change. However even things which seem the most lasting will still fail in the end, like the morning frost that vanishes. Even the most durable of man's constructions will fall down eventually. "royally wear his crown of weeds" could refer to King Lear's decline. In the end he becomes "As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud; Crown'd with rank fumiter and furrow-weeds, With bur-docks, hemlock, nettles, cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow." Now for the rebuttal. Wordsworth is as usual full of tautologies. Frost melts, buildings fall down, all your teeth fall out and you drop dead. We know that but why accept it? Find a good dentist, take vitamins and get insured. Acceptance is too close to petrifaction and fossilisation. Dont accept it, do something about it. It's not true that cheating, stealing and lying make people unhappy. People who live an amoral and self-deluded existence are quite happy. All motivations are inherited anyway and they wouldn't be so persistent and if they didn't provide benefits. Happiness depends not on accepting truths but on believing fallacies, religious palliatives. However, evolution works for the genotype not the phenotype. The individual is only a test run of a specific set of genes. The survival of individual genes matters more than the survival of individuals. We're all expendable. Therefore some motivations which seem to be anti-survival are actually pro-survival because they get rid of useless genes. Suicide, for instance. Misery is just nature's way of telling you that your genes are crap and so not worth keeping. If you're miserable find a different survival strategy, change your job, leave your partner, go and live somewhere else. If you keep on doing what you're doing, you will keep on getting what you're getting. In any nesting community of birds there are some foragers, who collect nesting materials, and some thieves, who steal them. It's clear that birds are born with motivations both to forage and to steal, but it can't be predicted whether an individual bird will be a thief or a forager. If nesting materials are easy to collect, more birds will steal. If nesting materials are scarce, more birds will forage. Aint it the truth, though? But evil-doers are troubled by conscience and the righteous by temptation. They hear the voice of the other strategy. So where's the benefit in truth and honesty, when self-deception and dishonesty are so effective and beneficial? This is the sad part. Those rare individuals who bravely embrace the truth suffer more themselves but they contribute more to humanity's collective wealth of knowledge and art. That's why their genes survive. Truth isn't a thing we can accept because acceptance implies we already know what the truth is. Wordsworth thought that the truth was in the Bible. (Still, in Eastern stories the hero keeps to the rules come what may - in Western stories the hero breaks or bends the rules.) What we consider to be truth is constantly being revised and refined. People who seek to find the truth seem to be the most unhappy. The lives of great thinkers are often short and tragic. "Whom the Gods love die young", said Byron, so they must have loved him but not Wordsworth nor me. As Bernard Shaw observed: "The reasonable man adapts himself to the world. The unreasonable man attempts to adapt the world to himself. Therefore progress depends on unreasonable men." Wordsworth on Helvellyn 1842 (he was 72) by Benjamin Robert Haydon (1786-1846) For another perspective, see this ppt presentation: literature08.wikispaces.com
The video is a small piece of piety referred to the beauty of nature and all things created. By using one of the most famous of Wordsworth's poems, the video appears to come alive and truly combine the poet's original idea with a modern means - applying text to context. I'd like to thank Sonia for the fantastic work she did - the marvelous musical background and the few words of her own added, complete the final fantasy of this delve into the heart of Nature. Wordsworth was often dismayed by what he saw and sought solace in the grandeur and beauty of nature. He offered not just a beautiful picture of nature but also illustrated its healing power on the spirit of man. In this poem My Heart Leaps Up, Wordsworth also uses another concept that becomes a theme throughout his poetry; the importance of childhood. For many of the Romantics, the memories or visions of an idyllic childhood become a powerful emotive force as they aspired for life of greater harmony and simplicity. Worsworth's poetry includes passages of great hope, optimisim and joy best summarised through this poem. ***** Il video è un piccolo frammento di sensibilità alla bellezza della natura e tutte le cose create. Usando una delle poesie più famose di Wordsworth, il video pare far rivivere e abbinare l'idea del poeta con un originale mezzo moderno - l'applicazione del testo al contesto. Vorrei ringraziare Sonia per il fantastico lavoro che ha fatto - la meravigliosa musica di sottofondo e le sue poche parole mirate aggiunte in fine, completano la fantasia ultima di questo viaggio nel cuore della Natura. Wordsworth spesso è rimasto sconcertato da ciò che vedeva cercando conforto nella grandezza e la bellezza della natura. Ha proposto non solo una bella immagine della natura, ma ha anche illustrato il potere curativo della Natura per l'uomo. In questo poema Il Cuore balza, Wordsworth usa anche un altro concetto, che diventa un tema in tutta la sua poesia, l'importanza dellinfanzia. Per molti dei romantici, il ricordo o la concezione idilliaca della vita del fanciullo diventa una potente forza emotiva in quanto ambita per una maggiore armonia e semplicità. La poesia di Wordsworth propone un idea di grande speranza, di gioia e ottimismo, così ben raccolto in questa poesia. ______ My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man; And I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. *********** Il cuore balza quando vedo Un arcobaleno nel cielo: Così è stato quando la vita ha avuto inizio; Così è ora che sono un uomo; Così sia quando attempo, Oppure fatemi morire! Il fanciullo è padre delluomo; E che io possa vivere i miei giorni Legato ad ogni cosa naturale e pia.
The original 1807 version, as reproduced in William Wordsworth: The Major Works from the Oxford World's Classics series. Read by Geoffrey Kellogg.
Heres a virtual movie of the great Alfred Lord Tennyson reading his unforgetable sad sweet poem "Tears, Idle Tears". Heres what the excellent Wikipedia says about this masterpiece.. "Tears, Idle Tears" is a lyric poem written in 1847 by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (18091892), the noted Victorian-era English poet. Published as one of the "songs" in his The Princess (1847), it is regarded for the quality of its lyrics. A Tennyson anthology describes the poem as "one of the most Virgilian of Tennyson's poems and perhaps his most famous lyric".[1] Readers often overlook the poem's blank verse[1][2]—the poem does not rhyme. Tennyson was inspired to write "Tears, Idle Tears" upon a visit to Tintern Abbey in Monmouthshire, an abbey that was abandoned in 1536. He said the convent was "full for me of its bygone memories", and that the poem was about "the passion of the past, the abiding in the transient."[1] William Wordsworth also wrote a poem inspired by this location in 1798, "Tintern Abbey", which develops a similar theme. "Tears, Idle Tears" is noted for its lyric richness, and for its tones of paradox and ambiguity—especially as Tennyson did not often bring his doubts into the grammar and symbolism of his works.[3] The ambiguity occurs in the contrasting descriptions of the tears: they are "idle", yet come from deep within the narrator; the "happy autumn-fields" inspire sadness. Literary critic Cleanth Brooks writes, "[W]hen the poet is able, as in 'Tears, Idle Tears', to analyze his experience, and in the full light of the disparity and even apparent contradiction of the various elements, bring them into a new unity, he secures not only richness and depth but dramatic power as well."[4] Critic Graham Hough in a 1951 essay asks why the poem is unrhymed, and suggests that something must be "very skillfully put in [rhyme's] place" if many readers do not notice its absence. He concludes that "Tears, Idle Tears" does not rhyme "[b]ecause it is not about a specific situation, or an emotion with clear boundaries; it is about the great reservoir of undifferentiated regret and sorrow, which you can brush awaybut which nevertheless continues to exist."[2] Readers tend not to notice the lack of rhyme because of the richness and variety of the vowel sounds Tennyson employs. (TS Eliot considered Tennyson an unequaled master in handling vowel sounds; see, for example, Tennyson's "Ulysses".) Each line's end-sound—except for the second-last line's "regret"—is an open vowel or a consonant or consonant group that can be drawn out in reading. Each line "trails away, suggesting a passage into some infinite beyond: just as each image is clear and precise, yet is only any instance" of something more universal.[5] The poem, one of the "songs" of The Princess, has been set to music a number of times. Edward Lear put the lyric to music in the nineteenth century, and Ralph Vaughan Williams' pianistic setting of 1903 was described by The Times as "one of the most beautiful settings in existence of Tennyson's splendid lyric.". Kind Regards Jim Clark All rights are reserved on this video recording copyright Jim Clark 2009 Tears Idle Tears......... Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awaken'd birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feign'd On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more!
You Cannot Write Romantic Poems Great As Me, Yeah You Cannot See, That Tree, Like I See And You, Dont Know What, What Its Worth, Wordsworth You Should Know, That Natures Good For Me (chorus) Cause Theyre Vast And Theyre Old Theyre Green And They Grow Theyre Very Peaceful And Beautiful. It Brightens My Day, Every Single day, It Gives Me Life, More Than My Wife Nature Makes You Really Wanna Stay (You) Cause Its a Really Nice Place Theyre Vast And Theyre Old Theyre Green And They Grow Theyre Very Peaceful And Beautiful. 2nd Verse I Remember When, I Journeyed Back Then, Spent Time, Energy, In France Germany, Used To Be, A New Thing, Now Its Plain, Boring I Should Know, That Life Is Gonna Change (Chorus)
Poet Jeanette Lynes' poem "Granite Abbey: Lines composed in Saskatoon on Re-entering A Curling Rink After Many Years Absence" is set to a video by Tom Barkhouse. Rural Canada provides a backdrop for the authors take on a William Wordsworth poem, a 'cover-poem' of sorts.
A poem written to his wife Mary, who was his childhood sweetheart. Presumably she didn't mind being called a machine because it meant something different in those days, an organism There's no record of she thought about being alled "not too bright". Mary warned, comforted and commanded him, hinting that she was something of a scold. Perhaps a chap who likes to wander lonely as a cloud needs bringing down to earth with a bump now and then. Together they made five children and you can tell by the look of devotion on her face in the portrait that she loved him. Or perhaps she was looking forward to having sex when the sitting was over. "Two voices are there: one is of the deep; It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody, Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea, Now bird-like pipes, now closes soft in sleep: And one is of an old half-witted sheep Which bleats articulate monotony, And indicates that two and one are three, That grass is green, lakes damp, and mountains steep: And, Wordsworth, both are thine: at certain times Forth from the heart of thy melodious rhymes, The form and pressure of high thoughts will burst: At other times--good Lord! I'd rather be Quite unacquainted with the ABC Than write such hopeless rubbish as thy worst." JK Stephen There's a fascinating article about the Wordsworths here. tinyurl.com
William Wordsworth - We Are Seven Poetry Reading, Daily Poetry Reading by Karin
Just a desk-side chat about poems and why I value them.
a video to a poem from the romantic era for english class project
Okay...so this is William Wordsworth's poem, "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud". I made a moviemaker movie for this poem for a project in my Lit class. The photos I used have all been re-touched, and the cool fonts added through an online photo-editing software. Enjoy~!! ^^ Song Used: Brian Crain - A Walk Through the Forest (Covered by Yiruma) [with special thanks to MJ, who gave me the song!]
A country girl in London sees a vision of home. Lothbury was so-called because it was offensive and noisy, Cheapside was a busy market area.
William Wordworth was one of the great Romantic poets of 19th-century England. His poems celebrated the glories of nature and the human spirit while using the simple language of the "common man" -- a radical idea for the time. Wordsworth studied at Cambridge University and then traveled in France during the Revolution, an experience which affected deeply his own political leanings The Lake District, also known as The Lakes or Lakeland, is a rural area in North West England. A popular holiday destination, it is famous for its lakes and its mountains (or fells), and its associations with the early 19th century poetry and writings of William Wordsworth and the Lake Poets. The central and most-visited part of the area is contained in the Lake District National Park—one of fourteen National parks in the United Kingdom. It lies entirely within Cumbria, and is one of England's few mountainous regions. All the land in England higher than three thousand feet above sea level lies within the National Park. The Lake District also contains Scafell Pike, the highest mountain in England.
A reading of this famous sonnet. Wordsworth was fond of simple observations such as "the rainbow comes and goes and lovely is the rose"
Heres a virtual movie of William Wordsworth 1770 - 1850 reciting his much loved poem "daffodils" William Wordsworth was born at Cockermouth on the River Derwent, in the heart of the Lake District Cumbria north of England an area thats natural beauty inspired much of his work....This qiute possibly his most quoted poem needs little explanation to anybody who has experienced the seasonal joyfulness of the early English spring and the wondrous promise of warmer times to come seemingly symbolised by the blooming of the magnificent Daffodils.. Regards. Jim Clark.. All rights are reserved on this video sound recording/copyright Jim Clark 2008 The Daffodils 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 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 the inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
The poesm "Daffodils" wirtten in 1804 by William Wordsworth read by the actor Sir Jeremy Irons. --- Sir Jeremy Irons has really incredible voice. Background: photos from Interne. Daffodils and Jeremy Irons as he appears in "Elisabeth". --- "Daffodils" (1804) 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. By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
We had to create a movie for a famous poem. This is interpretation on the poem "The world is too much with us" by the poet William Wordsworth. My younger sister and my best friend are the actors in the poem. I directed, narrated and produced the picture. Enjoy!
The Battle of Blenheim by Robert Southey read by Sir Derek Jacobi www.productexchange.co.uk copyright to 'productexchange.co.uk' see web site for details. Thanks to Frank Rodgers for sharing this. Audio created by Robert Nichol audioproductions Robert Southey (August 12, 1774 -- March 21, 1843) was an English poet of the Romantic school, one of the so-called "Lake Poets", and Poet Laureate. Although his fame tends to be eclipsed by that of his contemporaries and friends William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Southey's verse enjoys enduring popularity It was a summer evening; Old Kaspar's work was done, And he before his cottage door Was sitting in the sun; And by him sported on the green His little grandchild Wilhelmine. She saw her brother Peterkin Roll something large and round, Which he beside the rivulet In playing there had found. He came to ask what he had found, That was so large, and smooth, and round. Old Kaspar took it from the boy, Who stood expectant by; And then the old man shook his head, And with a natural sigh, "'Tis some poor fellow's skull," said he, "Who fell in the great victory. "I find them in the garden, For there's many here about; And often, when I go to plow, The plowshare turns them out; For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in that great victory." "Now tell us what 'twas all about," Young Peterkin, he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; "Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for." "It was the English," Kaspar cried, "Who put the French to rout; But what they fought each other for, I could not well make out; But everybody said," quoth he, "That 'twas a famous victory. "My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by; They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly; So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head. "With fire and sword the country round Was wasted far and wide, And many a childing mother then, And new-born baby, died; But things like that, you know, must be At every famous victory. "They say it was a shocking sight After the field was won; For many thousand bodies here Lay rotting in the sun; But things like that, you know, must be After a famous victory. "Great praise the Duke of Marlboro' won, And our good Prince Eugene." "Why, 'twas a very wicked thing!" Said little Wilhelmine. "Nay, nay, my little girl," quoth he; "It was a famous victory. "And everybody praised the Duke Who this great fight did win." "But what good came of it at last?" Quoth little Peterkin. "Why, that I cannot tell," said he; "But 'twas a famous victory." Audio created by Robert Nichol audioproductions
Me reading William Wordsworth's Nature and the Poet. email/im: johndoylepoems@yahoo.co.uk
rnaudioproductions for www.ipodity.com www.allcast.co.uk The Rainbow' by William Wordsworth read by John Green My heart leaps up when I behold A rainbow in the sky: So was it when my life began; So is it now I am a man; So be it when I shall grow old, Or let me die! The Child is father of the Man; I could wish my days to be Bound each to each by natural piety. Audio created by Robert Nichol audioproductions London all rights reseved rnaudioproductions for www.ipodity.com www.allcast.co.uk ipodity.com allcast.co.uk mp3 ipod download audio book audiobooks
rnaudioproductions for www.ipodity.com www.allcast.co.uk Upon Westminster Bridge by William Wordsworth 1770--1850 read by John Green EARTH has not anything to show 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 fields, and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour 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! Audio created by Robert Nichol audioproductions London all rights reserved rnaudioproductions for www.ipodity.com www.allcast.co.uk ipodity.com allcast.co.uk mp3 ipod download audio book audiobooks
read by Sean Barrett Studio production - Robert Nichol The world is too much with us; late and soon, Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers: Little we see in Nature that is ours; We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon; The winds that will be howling at all hours, And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers; For this, for everything, we are out of tune; It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn; So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn; Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. I have put alot of classic poems on my sight - to save them and share them I hope you enjoy them audioproductions 1990 all rights reserved
William Wordsworth's beautiful poem
My 93 year-old grandfather, Robert M. Adams, reciting his favorite poems on October 21, 2007.
My recitation of this poem by William Wordsworth The Daffodils 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 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 the inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils
William Wordsworth's "Daffodils" is presented by Samuel Godfrey George.
A poem acted out by me... a poem written by william wordsworth
RAINBOW-II: World Poetry through Indian dances Asha For Education centralnj Chapter's Annual fundraiser On April 21st 2007, at 6:00pm. RAINBOW-II is a piece of art that attempts to blend the East and West portraying World poetry through Indian classical dance with music composed by Grammy Award Winner Pt. VISWAMOHAN BHAT for poems by William Shakespeare, John Keats, William Wordsworth, Rabindranath Tagore, Lord Byron, Maya Angelou. Venue: NEW BRUNSWICK HIGH SCHOOL For more details and tickets, go to www.ashanet.org Artists homepage: www.sooryadance.com
here's the choral speaking of 3C" check it out! remember, C is for CHAMPION!! -------------------------------- notes added on 7 May 2008 Interclass Choral Speaking Contest time: 30 March 2007 venue: hall@Sacred Heart Canossian College (English Section) (Macau) class in the clip: Form 3C (2006-2007) poem: The Daffodils (by William Wordsworth) *it was cast right after the results of the contests were out - 3C won the distinction price in Junior Secordary! (therefore it was not our performance for the competition...) *the rules didn't specify that no "foot movements" were allowed (juz in our sku)... =)
I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud .. a famous poetry by William Wordsword .. Imitated for an English schoolproject
Video interpretation of the William Wordsworth poem, 'The World Is Too Much With Us'. Made for an AP English class in 2000.
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