Treasure Island

William Wordsworth

(1770-1850 / Cumberland / England)

Comments about William Wordsworth

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  • Vandavasu Vittal (8/14/2009 1:06:00 AM)

    You enchant nature with life and woe with bliss. Thine strife is never undo till dear Coleridge died your source of inspiration. your poetry is charming like the flying doves. You are the poetical genius with incessant clout of emotions on paper.

    30 person liked.
    31 person did not like.
  • p.a. noushad (5/23/2009 6:34:00 AM)

    i feel deep within a bliss of imagination which flies high with your verses.

  • Aiswarya. T.anish (4/18/2009 10:42:00 AM)

    I worship you. Your poems are sooooo beautiful. I love Daffodils. I got first prize in the Recitation competition in school after I recited this poem. You are a master of poetry.

  • Sonya Florentino (12/7/2008 10:51:00 AM)

    I don't understand how people can not like this poem. The only reason I can think of is that they haven't experienced true bliss.. which I think is what this poem is about... bliss that you never forget, which you can always come back to and feel with the same power as when you first experienced it....spiritual bliss. When I read this poem again as an adult, by the time I got to the last two lines, I was crying because he really touched on something so profound.

  • p.a. noushad (6/14/2008 1:04:00 AM)

    your poems touch the beauty of nature, nature protects us, nature helps us, nature teaches, nature inspires, as a bliss in the solitude.beautiful creations.

  • Lamont Palmer (9/20/2006 3:08:00 PM)

    For a 19th century poet, Wordworth wrote wonderfully modern sounding verse. His 'The Prelude' is a monumental work, which I am always reading. -LP

  • Vikram Aarella - The Poem Shooter (5/18/2006 1:19:00 PM)

    The real master of poetry, his poem about Daffodil's was the first poem i loved as a kid.

  • Donna Helm (2/10/2006 10:28:00 AM)

    When life does as life does, Wordsworth had the gift to place it all in succinct prespective.

The Mother's Return

A MONTH, sweet Little-ones, is past
Since your dear Mother went away,---
And she tomorrow will return;
Tomorrow is the happy day.

O blessed tidings! thought of joy!
The eldest heard with steady glee;
Silent he stood; then laughed amain,---
And shouted, ' Mother, come to me!'

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