Written in london september 1802. Written in London. September, 1802 by William Wordsworth 2019-02-10

Poem Written in London. September, 1802 Lyrics — i99.to

Written in London, September, 1802 O Friend! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. Only Milton, it seems, can restore England to its former greatness, by restoring the virtues that it has lost. According to Wordsworth, England was once a great place of happiness, religion, chivalry, art, and literature, but at the present moment those virtues have been lost. The reason undoubtedly lies in its great simplicity and beauty of language, turning on Dorothy's observation that this man-made spectacle is nevertheless one to be compared to nature's grandest natural spectacles. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! It was first published in the collection in 1807. I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! We are selfish men; O raise us up, return to us again, And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power! The Grasmere and Alfoxden Journals. Wordsworth expresses the wish that Milton were still alive, because his country, England, needs him now.

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802

England, the speaker says, is stagnant and selfish, and Milton could raise her up again. This was written immediately after my return from France to London, when I could not but be struck, as here described, with the vanity and parade of our own country, especially in great towns and cities, as contrasted with the quiet, and I may say the desolation, that the Revolution had produced in France. Everyone — and Wordsworth includes himself here — has become selfish. I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, oppressed To think that now our life is only dressed For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! Commentary The speaker of this poem, which takes the form of a dramatic outburst, literally cries out to the soul of John Milton in anger and frustration. Written in London, September, 1802 O Friend! Sonnets are fourteen-line poetic inventions written in iambic pentameter. —We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest; The wealthiest man among us is the best; No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.

XIII Written in London, September, 1802

Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. The river glideth at his own sweet will: Dear God! It was a beautiful morning. The reason undoubtedly lies in its great simplicity and beauty of language, turning on Dorothy's observation that this man-made spectacle is nevertheless one to be compared to nature's grandest natural spectacles. I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! Written in London, September, 1802 by William Wordsworth. I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! In 1802, Wordsworth was a literary celebrity, thanks to the publication of Lyrical Ballads, which he co-authored with Samuel Taylor Coleridge, in 1798. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws.

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802

The Cry for Justice: An Anthology of the Literature of Social Protest. The very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still! Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill; Ne'er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep! So, Milton stands for liberty and freedom of various kinds. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. 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. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure breathing household. Com permission to publish the poem.

Written In London. September, 1802

I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. Milton also lived during the English Civil War and supported Oliver Cromwell and the Parliamentarians who fought against the King, Charles I. We must run glittering like a brook In the open sunshine, or we are unblest: The wealthiest man among us is the best: No grandeur now in nature or in book Delights us. The Grasmere and Alfoxden Journals. The poem is written in the second person and addresses the late poet John Milton, who lived from 1608-1674 and is most famous for having written. Com and adding a poem, you represent that you own the copyright to that poem and are granting PoetryNook.

XIII Written in London, September, 1802

I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! William Blake certainly thought so. It was a beautiful morning. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. The other purpose of the poem is to draw attention to what Wordsworth feels are the problems with English society. The sonnet has always been popular, escaping the generally excoriating reviews from critics such as in the when Poems in Two Volumes was first published. All poems are shown free of charge for educational purposes only in accordance with fair use guidelines.

Written in London. September, 1802 by William Wordsworth

Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. Milton thus stands as a beacon of enlightenment and integrity, a man who has the best interests of England at heart and has the skill and influence to make a real political difference. 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. His soul was as bright as a star, and stood apart from the crowd: he did not need the approval or company of others in order to live his life as he pleased. His father, Attorney, John Wordsworth, born to a lawyer, was the personal attorney of Sir James Lowther, Earl of Lonsdale. I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! Written in London, September, 1802 By William Wordsworth One of the great sonnets of England’s poet of nature; 1770–1850. The angry moral sonnets of 1802 come from this ethical impulse, and indicate how frustrating it was for Wordsworth to see his poems exerting more aesthetic influence than social or psychological influence.

Poem Written in London. September, 1802 Lyrics — i99.to

I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! GradeSaver, 17 November 2007 Web. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore: Plain living and high thinking are no more: The homely beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our fearful innocence, And pure religion breathing household laws. September, 1802 by William Wordsworth. These virtues are precisely what Wordsworth saw as lacking in the English men and women of his day. The very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still! Wordsworth wrote his poem addressed to Milton in 1802, as his title tells us. Unlike later Romantic rebels and sensualists, Wordsworth was concerned that his ideas communicate natural morality to his readers, and he did not oppose his philosophy to society. I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook, Or groom! This was written immediately after my return from France to London, when I could not but be struck, as here described, with the vanity and parade of our own country, especially in great towns and cities, as contrasted with the quiet, and I may say the desolation, that the Revolution had produced in France.

Written in London, September, 1802

William Wordsworth 1770 - 1850 In the Lake District was born the Great Nature Poet of all times, William Wordsworth on April 7, 1770, at Cockermouth on the River Derwent. With this opening line, William Wordsworth 1770-1850 begins one of his most famous sonnets. It was first published in the collection in 1807. Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and we adore: living and high are no more: The beauty of the good old cause Is gone; our peace, our innocence, And pure breathing laws. . A Petrarchan sonnet is divided into two parts, an octave the first eight lines of the poem and a sestet the final six lines.