There was a boy wordsworth
- #There was a boy wordsworth how to#
- #There was a boy wordsworth full#
- #There was a boy wordsworth series#
It was later incorporated into the posthumously published 1850 text of The Prelude (V, 364, et seq.) but it seems to me more effective as a standalone fragment, purely because its fragmentary nature itself communicates something important. This particular poem, “There Was a Boy”, appeared in the 1798 edition of Lyrical Ballads, and later, in an expanded form (the form given above), in the 1805 edition. Wordsworth adds to this armoury things that are mentioned as if in passing before being seemingly forgotten, but allowing these passing references to colour the rest in the reader’s mind.
The poet uses any feature of language he can – sounds, sonorities, syntax, and rhythm imagery and symbolism and so on – to communicate these various matters. Much of greatest poetry does seem to me to communicate various matters that language, as commonly used, is not designed to communicate. And the impression is conveyed of a certain joy that is present even in the midst of heartbreak – a joy that cannot be spoken about directly because our language is not designed to communicate directly matters so intangible. He leaves unsaid what this “joy” is that is mentioned in the opening line however, the word “joy”, so strikingly introduced, resonates in our mind even as we go on to read of the most inconsolable grief. And he also, vitally, I think, uses this conversational mode to leave certain things unsaid. But in simulating this rambling that is typical of conversation, Wordsworth gives us the impression of conversation. Only seemingly, of course: a poem, especially a poem as tightly knit as a sonnet must be, cannot be as rambling as our conversation often is. The rest of the sonnet is about his loss: whatever joy it was that is referred to in the first line is now seemingly forgotten. The opening line strikingly tells us that he has come across an unexpected joy, but almost as soon as he starts to tell us about this, another thought – that his daughter, with whom he had instinctively wished to share this joy, is no longer there – overtakes it. This conversational effect is achieved partly through his avoidance of words not generally used in everyday speech (although when he does from time to time break this rule and introduces words such as “ vicissitude” or “ diurnal”, the effect can be electric) and also through a simulation of the kind of thing we tend to do in conversation – drifting off from one subject to another, parenthetical comments leading on to other matters so that the original subject is forgotten, and so on.Ĭonsider, for instance, the sonnet “ Surprised by Joy”, Wordsworth’s infinitely touching lament for his dead daughter. While Shakespeare’s blank verse has an irresistible dramatic impulse (hardly surprising, given that it occurs in his dramas) and while Milton’s blank verse is grand and sonorous Wordsworth’s blank verse seems to give the impression that he is sitting next to us, not orating grandly, but conversing – conversing in a voice that is gentle, quiet, but firm. But Wordsworth sounds very unlike either: his tone is almost invariably conversational. Wordsworth’s blank verse is based on underlying iambic pentameters, as is the blank verse of the two other undisputed masters of the form in English – Shakespeare and Milton. Mute-looking at the grave in which he lies!
Where he was born and bred: the churchyard hangsĪnd through that churchyard when my way has led
#There was a boy wordsworth full#
In childhood, ere he was full twelve years old. This boy was taken from his mates, and died
Its woods, and that uncertain heaven received Of mountain-torrents or the visible scene Listening, a gentle shock of mild surprise Then, sometimes, in that silence, while he hung
Of silence such as baffled his best skill: Of jocund din! And, when there came a pause Responsive to his call,-with quivering peals,Īnd long halloos, and screams, and echoes loud That they might answer him.-And they would shout Pressed closely palm to palm and to his mouth There was a Boy ye knew him well, ye cliffsĪt evening, when the earliest stars beganīeneath the trees, or by the glimmering lake Īnd there, with fingers interwoven, both hands So “The Poem of the Month” continues – as long as it is understood that it does not imply that I’ll be writing about a poem every month. However, I don’t want to give up on the idea altogether.
#There was a boy wordsworth series#
I suppose this blog is too freewheeling in nature – I tend to write about whatever takes my fancy, really – for any regular series such as this to be viable. However, since that first Poem of the Month back in April, I have been most remiss on the matter. The intentions were good: I really had meant to write about a poem each month.
#There was a boy wordsworth how to#
Some time ago, deciding that I needed to write more about poetry in this blog (though not quite certain how to go about it), I started a series that I called, rather foolishly, “Poem of the Month”.