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A Sonnet
Two voices are there: one is of the deep;
It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody,
Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea,
Now bird-like pipes, now closes soft in sleep:
And one is of an old half-witted sheep
Which bleats articulate monotony,
And indicates that two and one are three,
That grass is green, lakes damp, and mountains steep:
And, Wordsworth, both are thine: at certain times
Forth from the heart of thy melodious rhymes,
The form and pressure of high thoughts will burst:
At other times--good Lord! I'd rather be
Quite unacquainted with the ABC
Than write such hopeless rubbish as thy worst.

-- J. K. Stephen

This poem is hilarious, and insightful at the same time- and captures exactly, my feelings on Wordsworth. Wordsworth’s works range from the sad beauty of his “Lucy” poems, to the exceedingly annoying “Daffodils”. “Daffodils” must be amongst the most common-place, irritating poems I have had the misfortune to have forced upon me. Lucy was never required reading – but how I loved it! Will try and locate it sometime.

posted by Aish @ 12:24 PM