Wordsworth's Counterrevolutionary Turn: Community, Virtue, and Vision in the 1790s
University of Delaware Press, 1997 - Всего страниц: 273
This book engages a controversy over the relationship between Wordsworth's poetry and his politics, dating back to the early reviews of the Lyrical Ballads. Rieder argues that Wordsworth's poetry achieves its power by projecting a fantasy of community that finds its material counterpart far more in the literature itself than in the rural occupations or natural scenes Wordsworth depicts. Also argued throughout is that Wordsworth's originality springs from his invention and elaboration of a peculiarly literary form of community.
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The Economy of Vision
Civic Virtue and Social Class at the Scene of Execution The Salisbury Plain Poems
The Politics of Theatricality and the Crime of Abandonment in The Borderers
Framing The Ruined Cottage
Therefore Am I Still The Poets Authority in Tintern Abbey
Originality Sympathy and the Critique of Ideology
The Versions of The Ruined Cottage
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abandonment appears argues argument attempt authority becomes beggar body called character closely Coleridge concern critical desire domestic early economy effects emerges English entire face fact feeling figure final gives ground hand heart Herbert hope human ideology important individual indolence instance interest kind labor later less Letter lines literary literature London Lyrical Margaret's means mind moral Mortimer narrative nature opening originality passage passions pedlar's perhaps play pleasure poem poet poet's poetic poetry political poor precisely present problem question reader reading reason recognition relation remains represents response Rivers Rivers's Romantic Ruined Cottage scene seems sense social society solitude speak story Studies sublime suffering sympathy tale theme things thought Tintern Abbey tion tradition turn University Press violence virtue vision Wordsworth's worth's writing
Стр. 207 - In darkness, and amid the many shapes Of joyless day-light ; when the fretful stir Unprofitable, and the fever of the world, Have hung upon the beatings of my heart, How oft, in spirit, have I turned to thee, O sylvan Wye ! Thou wanderer thro...
Стр. 219 - Into a sober pleasure ; when thy mind Shall be a mansion for all lovely forms, Thy memory be as a dwelling-place For all sweet sounds and harmonies...
Стр. 55 - In our halls is hung Armoury of the invincible Knights of old: We must be free or die, who speak the tongue That Shakespeare spake; the faith and morals hold Which Milton held.
Стр. 17 - In spite of difference of soil and climate, of language and manners, of laws and customs: in spite of things silently gone out of mind, and things violently destroyed; the Poet binds together by passion and knowledge the vast empire of human society, as it is spread over the whole earth, and over all time.
Стр. 204 - Is lightened ; that serene and blessed mood In which the affections gently lead us on, Until the breath of this corporeal frame, And even the motion of our human blood Almost suspended, we are laid asleep In body, and become a living soul; While with an eye made quiet by the power Of harmony and the deep power of joy, We see into the life of things.
Стр. 73 - The tears into his eyes were brought. And thanks and praises seemed to run So fast out of his heart, I thought They never would have done. — I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
Стр. 171 - It were a wantonness, and would demand Severe reproof, if we were men whose hearts Could hold vain dalliance with the misery Even of the dead ; contented thence to draw A momentary pleasure, never marked By reason, barren of all future good. But we have known that there is often found In mournful thoughts, and always might be found, A power to virtue friendly...
Стр. 79 - Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment? Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?
Стр. 80 - Behold the merry minstrels of the morn, The swarming songsters of the careless grove, Ten thousand throats ! that, from the flowering thorn, Hymn their good God, and carol sweet of love...