The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind by Wordsworth William

The Prelude, or Growth of a Poet's Mind by Wordsworth William

Author:Wordsworth, William
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: (Privatkopie)
Published: 2010-02-02T16:00:00+00:00

Oh wondrous power of words, how sweet they are

According to the meaning which they bring –

Vauxhall and Ranelagh, I then had heard

Of your green groves and wilderness of lamps,

Your gorgeous ladies, fairy cataracts,

And pageant fireworks. Nor must we forget

Those other wonders, different in kind

Though scarcely less illustrious in degree,

The river proudly bridged, the giddy top

And Whispering Gallery of St Paul's, the tombs

Of Westminster, the Giants of Guildhall,

Bedlam and the two figures at its gates,

Streets without end and churches numberless,

Statues with flowery gardens in vast squares,

The Monument, and Armoury of the Tower.

These fond imaginations, of themselves,

Had long before given way in season due,

Leaving a throng of others in their stead;

And now I looked upon the real scene,

Familiarly perused it day by day,

With keen and lively pleasure even there

Where disappointment was the strongest, pleased

Through courteous self-submission, as a tax

Paid to the object by prescriptive right,

A thing that ought to be. Shall I give way,

Copying the impression of the memory –

Though things remembered idly do half seem

The work of fancy – shall I, as the mood

Inclines me, here describe for pastime's sake,

Some portion of that motley imagery,

A vivid pleasure of my youth, and now,

Among the lonely places that I love,

A frequent daydream for my riper mind?

And first, the look and aspect of the place –

The broad highway appearance, as it strikes

On strangers of all ages, the quick dance

Of colours, lights and forms, the Babel din,

The endless stream of men and moving things,

From hour to hour the illimitable walk

Still among streets, with clouds and sky above,

The wealth, the bustle and the eagerness,

The glittering chariots with their pampered steeds,

Stalls, barrows, porters, midway in the street

The scavenger that begs with hat in hand,

The labouring hackney-coaches, the rash speed

Of coaches travelling far, whirled on with horn

Loud blowing, and the sturdy drayman's team

Ascending from some alley of the Thames

And striking right across the crowded Strand

Till the fore-horse veer round with punctual skill:

Here, there, and everywhere, a weary throng,

The comers and the goers face to face –

Face after face – the string of dazzling wares,

Shop after shop, with symbols, blazoned names,

And all the tradesman's honours overhead:

Here, fronts of houses, like a title-page

With letters huge inscribed from top to toe;

Stationed above the door like guardian saints,

There, allegoric shapes, female or male,

Or physiognomies of real men,

Land-warriors, kings, or admirals of the sea,

Boyle, Shakespear, Newton, or the attractive head

Of some quack-doctor, famous in his day.


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