Wordsworth

Now while I respect William Wordsworth [1770-1850], I am not a huge enthusiast as I usually prefer Coleridge. Nevertheless, all the greats have some passages which are incredible. You can be a non-lover of Bach and still enjoy some of his tunes.

Read this passage as if it were Blake. It will produce an altogether different affect that thinking of it as the work of its real author. Try not to get trapped by who wrote what. It's a hard thing to learn, but something worth remembering. If you look at this passage as a Blake-like piece or a R. Tagore piece, it takes on a totally different, even more beautiful effect.

This is an elegiac verse "The Poem" [1842], in memory of Wordsworth's brother; more here, here's an excerpt of the start:

II	Thus in the weakness of my heart I spoke (but let that pang be still) When rising from the rock at will, I saw the Bird depart. And let me calmly bless the Power That meets me in this unknown Flower, Affecting type of him I mourn! With calmness suffer and believe, And grieve, and know that I must grieve, Not cheerless, though forlorn.
III	Here did we stop; and here looked round While each into himself descends, For that last thought of parting Friends That is not to be found. Hidden was Grasmere Vale from sight, Our home and his, his heart's delight, His quiet heart's selected home. But time before him melts away, And he hath feeling of a day Of blessedness to come.
IV	Full soon in sorrow did I weep, [...]