“ODE: INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY”, William
Wordsworth
1. ROMANTICISM: a brief definition
“Romanticism” is a term used to describe the artistic
and intellectual
movement which was
produced in Europe during the late 18th and early
19th centuries. This movement was characterized by its
individualist
postulates and its independence in front of the
classic rules.
In literature, Romanticism appeared at the end of 18th
century in
England and Germany, and later in France, Italy and
Spain.
The most important Romantic English poets are Lord
Byron, Shelley,
Keats, William Blake and William Wordsworth, about
whom we are going
to talk in this essay.
In their poems they display many characteristics of
Romanticism, such
as:
- An
emphasis on the emotions, I mean, an emotional and
intuitive way of understanding the world.
- They
explore the relationship between nature and human life.
- A
stress on the importance of personal experiences and a
desire to understand what influences the human mind.
- A
belief in the power of the imagination.
- An
interest in mythological, fantastical, gothic and
supernatural themes.
- Social
and political idealism
- Love,
which was one of the most important values for the
Romantics.
- They
proclaimed that the most important things are freedom,
brotherhood and nature.
BIBLIOGRAPHY (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romaticism)
2. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
William Wordsworth was born in 1770, in Cockermouth
(in the Lake
District). With the death of his mother in 1778, his
father sent him
to Hawkshead Grammar School. After their father’s
death, the
Wordsworth children were left under the guardianship
of their uncles.
Although many aspects of his boyhood were positive, he
recalled bouts
of loneliness and anxiety. It took him a lot of years,
and much
writing, to recover from the death of his parents and
his separation
from his siblings.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth)
In
1790 he went to France, where he fell in love with Annette
Vallon, and with whom he had a baby. One year later he
had to return
to England alone because of the war between France and
Britain. (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth)
In
1793 he met Samuel Taylor Coloridge. They developed a close
friendship. Together, they produced “Lyrical Ballads”
/1798), an
important work in the English Romantic Movement.
Moreover, in it we
can find one of Wordsworth’s most famous poems,
“Tintern Abbey”.
(http://epdlp.com/escritor.php?id=2446)
Wordsworth
had for years been making plans to write
long
philosophical poem in three parts, which he intended
to call “The
Recluse”. He had in 1798-1799 started an
autobiographical poem, which
he never named but called the “poem to Coloridge”
which would serve as
an appendix to “The Recluse”.
( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth)
In
1807, his “Poems in Two Volumes” were published,
including “Ode: Intimations of Immortality from
Recollections of Early
Childhood”. In 1814 he published “The Excursion” as
the second part of
the three-part “The Recluse”. He had not completed the
first and the
third parts, and never would complete them. However,
he did write a
poetic Prospectus to “The Recluse” in which he lays
out the structure
and intent of the poem. (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wordsworth //
“Gran
Enciclopedia
Larousse”, volume 24, pag 11664-11665)
He died in Rydal
Mount in 1850 ad was buried at St.Oswald’s church in
Grasmere. His widow, Mary Hutchinson, published his
lengthy
autobiographical “poem to Coleridge” as “The Prelude”
several months
after his death. Though this failed to arouse great
interest in 1850,
it has since come to be recognised as his
masterpiece.
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wordsworth)
3. ODE: INTIMATIONS OF IMMORTALITY
I
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore; -
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.
II
The Rainbow comes and goes,
And lovely is the Rose,
The Moon doth with delight
Look round her when the heavens are bare;
Waters on a starry night
Are beautiful and fair;
The sunshine is a glorious birth;
But yet I know, where'er I go,
That there hath past away a glory from the earth.
III
Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,
And while the young lambs bound
As to the tabor's sound,
To me alone there came a thought of grief:
A timely utterance gave that thought relief,
And I again am strong:
The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;
No more shall
grief of mine the season wrong;
I hear the Echoes through the mountains throng,
The Winds come to me from the fields of sleep,
And all the earth is gay;
Land and sea
Give themselves up to jollity,
And with the heart of May
Doth every Beast keep holiday; -
Thou Child of Joy,
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy
Shepherd-boy!
IV
Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call
Ye to each other make; I see
The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;
My heart is at your festival,
My head hath its coronal,
The fulness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all.
Oh evil day! if I were sullen
While the Earth herself is adorning,
This sweet May-morning,
And the Children are culling
On every side,
In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,
And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm: -
I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!
- But there's a Tree, of many, one,
A single Field which I have looked upon,
Both of them speak of something that is gone:
The Pansy at my feet
Doth the same tale repeat:
Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?
V
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar:
Not in entire forgetfulness,
And not in utter nakedness,
But trailing clouds of glory do we come
From God, who is our home:
Heaven lies about us in our infancy!
Shades of the prison-house begin to close
Upon the growing Boy,
But He beholds the light, and whence it flows,
He sees it in his joy;
The Youth, who daily farther from the east
Must travel, still is Nature's Priest,
And by the vision splendid
Is on his way attended;
At length the Man perceives it die away,
And fade into the light of common day.
VI
Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own;
Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind,
And, even with something of a Mother's mind,
And no unworthy aim,
The homely Nurse doth all she can
To make her Foster-child, her Inmate Man,
Forget the glories he hath known,
And that imperial palace whence he came.
VII
Behold the Child among his new-born blisses,
A six years' Darling of a pigmy size!
See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies,
Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses,
With light upon him from his father's eyes!
See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,
Some fragment from his dream of human life,
Shaped by himself with newly-learned art;
A wedding or a festival,
A mourning or a funeral;
And this hath now his heart,
And unto this he frames his song:
Then will he fit his tongue
To dialogues of business, love, or strife;
But it will not be long
Ere this be thrown aside,
And with new joy and pride
The little Actor cons another part;
Filling from time to time his "humorous
stage"
With all the Persons, down to palsied Age,
That Life brings with her in her equipage;
As if his whole vocation
Were endless imitation.
VIII
Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie
Thy Soul's immensity;
Thou best Philosopher, who yet dost keep
Thy heritage, thou Eye among the blind,
That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep,
Haunted for ever by the eternal mind, -
Mighty Prophet! Seer blest!
On whom those truths do rest,
Which we are toiling all our lives to find,
In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave;
Thou, over whom thy Immortality
Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave,
A Presence which is not to be put by;
To whom the grave
Is but a lonely bed without the sense or sight
Of day or the warm light,
A place of thought where we in waiting lie;
Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might
Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height,
Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke
The years to bring the inevitable yoke,
Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife?
Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight,
And custom lie upon thee with a weight,
Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
IX
O joy! that in our embers
Is something that doth live,
That nature yet remembers
What was so fugitive!
The thought of our past years in me doth breed
Perpetual benediction: not indeed
For that which is most worthy to be blest;
Delight and liberty, the simple creed
Of Childhood, whether busy or at rest,
With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:
-
Not for these I raise
The song of thanks and praise;
But for those obstinate questionings
Of sense and outward things,
Fallings from us, vanishings;
Blank misgivings of a Creature
Moving about in worlds not realised,
High instincts before which our mortal Nature
Did tremble like a guilty Thing surprised:
But for those first affections,
Those shadowy recollections,
Which, be they what they may,
Are yet the fountain-light of all our day,
Are yet a master-light of all our seeing;
Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make
Our noisy years seem moments in the being
Of the eternal Silence: truths that wake,
To perish never;
Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavor,
Nor Man nor Boy,
Nor all that is at enmity with joy,
Can utterly abolish or destroy!
Hence in a season of calm weather
Though inland far we be,
Our Souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither,
Can in a moment travel thither,
And see the Children sport upon the shore,
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
X
Then sing, ye Birds, sing, sing a joyous song!
And let the young Lambs bound
As to the tabor's sound!
We in thought will join your throng,
Ye that pipe and ye that play,
Ye that through your hearts today
Feel the gladness of the May!
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.
XI
And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves,
Forebode not any severing of our loves!
Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might;
I only have relinquished one delight
To live beneath your more habitual sway.
I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
Even more than when I tripped lightly as they;
The innocent brightness of a new-born Day
Is lovely yet;
The Clouds that gather round the setting sun
Do take a sober colouring from an eye
That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;
Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
Thanks to the human heart by which we live,
Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
To me the meanest flower that blows can give
Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.
BIBLIOGRAPHY: (http://bartleby.con/101/536.html)
4. ANALYSIS OF THE POEM:
“Intimations of
Immortality”
In
1807 William Wordsworth published “Poem in Two Volumes”, in
which we can find that poem, whose full-name is “Ode:
Intimations of
Immortality from Recollections of Every Childhood”.
(http:members.aol.com/wordspage/home.htm)
Many
of Wordsworth’s poems, including this, deal with the
subjects of childhood and the memory of childhood in
the mind of the
adult in particular, childhood’s lost connection with
nature, which
can be preserved only in memory.
(http://users.dickinson.edu/~nicholsa/Romnat/wordsworth.htm)
In
this poem Wordsworth uses a lot of imagination to get his
point through to the reader. He wants us to be able to
see what he
sees and to feel what he feels.
(http://users.dickinson.edu/~nicholsa/Romnat/wordsworth.htm)
The
structure of this poem is unique in Wordsworth’s work, I
mean, unlike his characteristically fluid, natural
spoken monologues,
it is written in a songlike cadence with frequent
changes in rhyme
scheme and rhythm. It is written in eleven variable
ode stanzas with
variable rhyme schemes, in iambic lines with anything
from two to five
stressed syllables.
(http:members.aol.com/wordspage/home.htm)
The rhymes occasionally alternate lines:
I
“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
the earth, and every common sight,
to me did seem
apparelled in celestial light,”
occasionally fall in couplets:
II
“Turn wheresoe’er I may,
by night or day,”
and occasionally occur within a single line:
“But yet I know, where’er I go”.
If we analyse the title, we have to say that its full
name
is “Intimations
of Immortality from recollections of early
childhood”, although it is better known as
“Intimations of
Immortality”.
In
this poem Wordsworth explains how humans change over time. In fact,
when we are a child we are connected with nature, but
as we get old we
tend to forget nature and become more interested in
other
responsibilities of adulthood, and that connection
with nature stays
as recollections of childhood in our memory. So, in my
opinion I think
that the title of this poem is good and right, because
reading it we
can guess more or less about what we are going to be
told in the poem;
at least we can guess that the poem deals with recollections
of
something about the childhood.
As we
have said before, the poem is divided in eleven stanzas,
which we are going to explain one by one.
In
the first stanza, the author says wistfully and sad
that “there was a time” (childhood) when all of nature
seemed
dreamlike to him (“Apparelled in celestial light”).
So, here what is
described is the poet’s lamentation on not being able
to see any more
the glory and the freshness of a dream that his
childhood had (“The
things which I have seen I now can see no more”).
In
the second stanza, he says that he still sees the good and
beautiful things of nature: the rainbow coming, the
rose, the moon,
the sunshine... Nevertheless the author feels that a
glory has passed
away from the earth.
In
the third stanza, while listening to the bird’s sing in
springtime and watching the young lambs leap and play,
he suddenly
becomes sad and fearful (“To me alone there came a
thought of grief”);
but this sadness doesn’t last too long, because the
sound of nearby
waterfalls, the echoes of the mountains… restored him
to strength. He
ends saying that all the earth is gay, because of that
he exhorts a
shepherd boy to play around him.
In
the fourth stanza, he declares that is impossible to feel
sad in such a beautiful May morning, with children
playing around him
and among the flowers. Although, suddenly, he looks at
a tree and a
field which said to each other that something is gone
(“both of them
speak of something that is gone”). The same is made by
a pansy.
Because of that he asked himself what has happened to appearance of
nature (“whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is
it now, the
glory and the dream?”).
In
the fifth stanza, Wordsworth says that human beings are
asleep and should forget important things (“Our birth
is but a sleep
and a forgetting”). Moreover it is said that human
beings live in a
purer, more glorious realm before they enter the
earth. He says that
as children, we still retain some memory of that
place, which causes
our experience of the earth to be suffused with its
magic; but as the
baby passes through boyhood and adulthood and into
manhood, he sees
that magic die.
In
the sixth stanza, the author declares that because of
earthly materials human beings tend to forget what is
need in life
(“Forget the glories he hath known, and that imperial
palace whence he
came”).
In
the seventh stanza, the author is looking at a six years
old boy, and imagines his life and the love that his
parents feel for
him. Wordsworth describes the way in which a young boy
leaves nature,
because he has to deal with adulthood and a whole
different kind of
life. That is reflected when he sees the boy playing
with some
imitated fragment of adult life (“little plan or chart”,
“a weeding or
a festival”, “a mourning or a funeral”). At the end,
the author says
that all life is an imitation.
In
the eight stanza, the poet addresses the boy as if he was a
prophet of the lost truth (“mighty prophet! Seer
blest! On whom those
truths do res”). And, rhetorically asks him why he
hurries toward an
adult life of custom and earthly freight, if he has
access to the
glories of his origins and to the pure experience of
nature.
In
the ninth stanza, the author goes back into memories of his
childhood , which grant him a kind of access to that
lost world of
innocence and instinct, to that world with nature.
In
the tenth stanza, after that thoughts he has become very
happy, because of that he urges the birds to sing, and
urges all
creatures to participate in what he says “the gladness
of the May”.
Then, again, he is stricken by the thought that he I
old now, but that
sad doesn’t last too long because with the thought
that he has been
with nature all the years makes him happy again,
because he has a lot
of recollections of his childhood with the nature so,
he can feel the
joy like he felt before.
In the final stanza, Wordsworth claims that he will
forever be in love
with nature and all its beauty; and he will in love
with it until the
he dies.
So, what we can said after reading that poem is that
Wordsworth
believed that, upon being born, human beings move from
a perfect,
idealized realm into the imperfect, un-ideal earth. As
children, some
memory of the former purity and glory in which they
lived remains,
best perceived in the solemn and joyous relationship
of the child to
the beauties of nature. But as children grow older,
the memory fades,
and the magic of nature dies. Still, the memory of
childhood can offer
an important solace, which brings with it almost a
kind of re-access
to the lost purities of the past. And the maturing
mind develops the
capability to understand nature in human terms, and to
see in it
metaphors for human life, which compensate for the
loss of the direct
connection.
Finally,
if we talk about the characteristics of Wordsworth,
we can see that there are some of them in that poem.
Firstly, nature,
in all its forms, was important to Wordsworth, who
concentrates on the
ways in which he responds and relates to the world. He
uses his poetry
to look at the relationship between nature and human
life, and to
explore the belief that nature can have an impact on
our emotional and
spiritual lives. (www.wordsworth.org.uk). That
feature is found in the
poem, because in it is related the nature with the
human being.
Moreover, all the poem goes round nature.
Secondly, Wordsworth saw imagination as a powerful,
active force that
works alongside our sense, interpreting the way we
view the world and
influencing how we react to events. He believed that a
strong
imaginative life is essential for our well-being.
(www.wordsworth.org.uk). We can see
imagination in the poem when the
tree are talking between each other, or when the pansy
is also taking.
5. CONCLUSION
Wordsworth’s
poems initiated the Romantic era by emphasizing
feeling, instinct, and pleasure above formality and
mannerism. He gave
expression to inchoate human emotion.
(www.wordsworth.org.uk)
“Intimations
of Immortality” is one of his most important
works, together with “The Prelude” and “Lyrical
Ballads”. The Ode
deals with childhood’s lost connection with nature as
human beings get
old. That connection only can be preserved in memory.
(http://everything2.com/index.pl?node_id=1772278)
Talking
about Wordsworth’s influences, we have to say that he
not only influenced the people who worked with him,
but also to some
authors that presented
their plays after Romanticism, such as
Spencer, Calvert, Coleridge…
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/william_wordsworth)
To
end this essay about the poem “Intimations of Immortality”,
I want to give my opinion. I didn’t know that poem,
and when I found
it on the internet I thought that my essay had to be
about it. I liked
this poem, because I think that all that is said in it
is true, at
least for me.
When we are children, we are innocent, we like to play,
we haven’t got problems; but when we are adult, we
have to deal with
problems in the job, in the family… because of that we
forget the good
and beautiful things of our childhood.
What more can I say? I just want to say that I
recommend that poem to
everybody, because it’s really interesting, beautiful
and because it
is a masterpiece of the Romantic English Literature.