The little hedgerow birds, That peck along the road, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step, His gait, is one expression; every limb, His look and bending figure, all bespeak A man who does not move with pain, but moves With thought—He is insensibly subdued To settled quiet: he is […]
William Wordsworth (1770-1850) was the foremost poet of English romanticism. His most famous work, The Prelude, is considered his crowning achievement, although he also published with poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge a set of Lyrical Ballads in 1789. Wordsworth’s father died at an early age, leaving him and his four siblings orphans. In 1843 Wordsworth became England’s poet laureate, a position he held for the remainder of his life.
Posts by William Wordsworth
The real Elvis is American, remember, and America is a consumer society. The desires we project, the stuff we buy—that is what feels real to us. It lets us have any Elvis we want. He left plenty of kitsch in his wake, plenty of pseudo-religion, plenty of Elvis jokes—but he was not, is not, a joke. He lived our contradictions, released our inhibitions, and lost himself in the process.