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    The Book of Flowers: Wordsworth's Poetry on Flowers
    The Book of Flowers: Wordsworth's Poetry on Flowers
    The Book of Flowers: Wordsworth's Poetry on Flowers
    Ebook55 pages26 minutes

    The Book of Flowers: Wordsworth's Poetry on Flowers

    By William Wordsworth

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    About this ebook

    A delightful pocket-sized collection of William Wordsworth’s poetry on flowers. This volume brings Wordsworth’s vivid nature imagery to life, featuring much-loved poems such as ‘I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud’ or ‘Daffodils’.

    This beautiful collection of Wordsworth’s poetry is drawn together by a common theme of flowers and plant life. The poems give inspiring descriptions of nature and are intertwined with the poet’s thoughts and experiences of life, including his friendships, relationships and religious beliefs.

    Included in this volume are poems such as:

      - ‘To the Daisy’
      - ‘To the Small Celadine’
      - ‘To the Waterfall and the Eglantine’
      - ‘The Oak and the Broom. A Pastoral’
      - ‘Not Love, Not War, Nor the Tumultuous Swell’
      - ‘Though the Bold Wings of Poesy Affect’

    From the specialist poetry imprint, Ragged Hand, Read & Co. has proudly republished Wordsworth’s Poetry on Flowers in this beautiful small edition, perfect for on-the-go reading. Complete with an introductory excerpt from Thomas Carlyle’s 1881 Reminiscences, this volume is not to be missed by nature lovers or collectors of Wordsworth’s work.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRagged Hand - Read & Co.
    Release dateFeb 20, 2020
    ISBN9781528789400
    The Book of Flowers: Wordsworth's Poetry on Flowers
    Author

    William Wordsworth

    William Wordsworth was born on 7 April 1770 at Cockermouth, in the English Lake District, the son of a lawyer. He was one of five children and developed a close bond with his only sister, Dorothy, whom he lived with for most of his life. At the age of seventeen, shortly after the deaths of his parents, Wordsworth went to St John’s College, Cambridge, and after graduating visited Revolutionary France. Upon returning to England he published his first poem and devoted himself wholly to writing. He became great friends with other Romantic poets and collaborated with Samuel Taylor Coleridge on Lyrical Ballads. In 1843, he succeeded Robert Southey as Poet Laureate and died in the year ‘Prelude’ was finally published, 1850.

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      Book preview

      The Book of Flowers - William Wordsworth

      1.png

      THE BOOK

      OF FLOWERS

      WORDSWORTH'S

      POETRY ON FLOWERS

      By

      WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

      Copyright © 2020 Ragged Hand

      This edition is published by Ragged Hand,

      an imprint of Read & Co. 

      This book is copyright and may not be

      reproduced or copied in any way without the express permission of the publisher in writing.

      British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

      A catalogue record for this book is available

      from the British Library.

      Read & Co. is part of Read Books Ltd.

      For more information visit

      www.readandcobooks.co.uk

      Contents

      William Wordsworth

      TO THE DAISY.

      TO THE SAME FLOWER.

      TO THE SMALL CELANDINE.

      TO THE SAME FLOWER.

      I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD.

      OR, DAFFODILS.

      THE WATERFALL AND THE EGLANTINE.

      THE OAK AND THE BROOM.

      A PASTORAL.

      NOT LOVE, NOT WAR, NOR THE TUMULTUOUS SWELL

      A FLOWER GARDEN.

      AT COLEORTON HALL, LEICESTERSHIRE

      THOUGH THE BOLD WINGS OF POESY AFFECT.

      THE EGYPTIAN MAID

      OR, THE ROMANCE OF THE WATER-LILY.

      FLOWERS ON THE TOP OF THE PILLARS AT THE ENTRANCE OF A CAVE.

      FORESIGHT.

      ADIEU, RYDALIAN LAURELS! THAT HAVE GROWN.

      BIBLIOGRAPHY

      William Wordsworth

      "Mr. Wordsworth . . . had a dignified manner, with a deep and roughish but not unpleasing voice, and an exalted mode of speaking.

      He had a habit of keeping his left hand in the bosom of his waistcoat; and in this attitude, except when he turned round to take one of the subjects of his criticism from the shelves (for his contemporaries were there also), he sat dealing forth his eloquent but hardly catholic judgments. . . . Walter Scott said that the eyes of Burns were the finest he ever saw. I cannot say the same of Mr. Wordsworth; that is, not in the sense of the beautiful, or even of the profound. But certainly I never beheld eyes which looked so inspired and supernatural.

      They were like fires half burning, half smouldering with a sort of acrid fixture of regard, and seated at the further end of two caverns. One might imagine Ezekiel or Isaiah to

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