Friday, April 24, 2015

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH - THE DAFFODILS - UPON WESTMINSTER BRIDGE


William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth, the great nature poet, was born on 7 April 1770 at Cockermouth in Cumberland. He lost his father and mother at a very early age. Thanks to the generosity of his uncle was given a good education. He was educated at Hawkshead School and St. John’s College, Cambridge, His meeting with Samuel Taylor Coleridge in 1795 was turning point in his life, in the sense that he decided to devote his life completely to poetry. Wordsworth and Coleridge together published The Lyrical Ballads in 1798. In 1843 he succeeded Robert Southey as poet Laureate and remained in office till his death on 23 April 1850.

Though Wordsworth has written long poems, he is at his best in the shorter poems like ‘Tintern Abbey’ and ‘Intimations of Immortality’. By writing a number of short poems like ‘The Daffodils’, ‘The Solitary Reaper’ etc.: he has shown in practice that beautiful poems can be written on ordinary subjects and in ordinary language; but they can be made beautiful with the colouring of the poet’s imagination. According to Wordsworth ‘Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility’.

The Daffodils – William Wordsworth

The poem is based on an actual incident in which Wordsworth had actually seen the breathtaking scene of thousands of daffodils tossing their heads in the cool breeze. But it was only after two years that he recollected the scene and wrote this poem. It tells a story, which also is recorded by Dorothy Wordsworth in her journal of Wordsworth’s coming upon thousands of daffodils while walking in the Lake District.

Once, Wordsworth was walking alone through a beautiful landscape. All of a sudden he saw a large number of daffodils by the side of a lake. They were fluttering and dancing in the breeze. They were as numerous as the stars and stretched in a never ending line. It seemed to the poet that he saw at least ten thousand flowers at a glance. The waves of the lake were also dancing, but the daffodils surpassed them. After watching such a fascinating scene a poet like Wordsworth could not but be happy. At that moment he did not realize that the beautiful sight was going to be a source of joy for him in the future also. Afterwards on many an occasion, he tried to recollect the scene. Every time he did it his heart was filled with joy.

Upon Westminster Bridge

This poem was an inspiration by a view of London from Westminster Bridge. It was written on the roof of a coach on September 3, 1802 when Wordsworth was on his way from London to Dover. Wordsworth’s sister who accompanied him writes. “Left London between five and six o’clock in the morning. A beautiful morning. the city, St. Paul’s, the river with its multitude of boats made beautiful sight as we crossed Westminster Bridge, the houses not over hung by their clouds of smoke, and were spread endlessly. Yet the sun shone brightly with such a pure light that there was something like the purity of one of Nature’s own grand spectacles.”  

No other scene is more beautiful than the sight of London in the morning sun. He, who is not experienced by such a majestic and impressive scene, is indeed a dull soul. The city of London has clothed itself in the bright light of the morning as a garment. There are no signs of its noisy people and their bustling activities. Ships, towers, domes, theatres and churches can be clearly seen spreading into the open fields. There is nothing now to hide the view of these wild fields and a clear sky overhead. All these objects look bright and shining because the air is free of smoke. 

The rays of the sun had never shown more beautifully over the valleys, rocks and hills in all those country scenes. The poet though, had visited many scenes earlier. Never before had the poet experienced such intense quietness as at this time.  The river Thames flows freely without being disturbed by the activities of boats, ships and sailors. Addressing God, the poet rejoices that houses and their occupants are now at rest. He feels as though the mighty heart of London city has stopped beating and it is lying calm and still.


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