William Wordsworth from The Prolude, or, Growth of a Poet’s Mind (from book 1) - Kelompok 13

KELOMPOK 13

Fikria Muzakki Aminy – 20131111035

Destawati Cardini – 20131111005

William Wordsworth from The Prolude, or, Growth of a Poet’s Mind (from book 1)

The Prelude or, Growth of a Poet's Mind; An Autobiographical Poem is an autobiographical conversation poem in blank verse by the English poet William Wordsworth. Intended as the introduction to the more philosophical Recluse, which Wordsworth never finished, The Prelude is an extremely personal and revealing work on the details of Wordsworth's life. Wordsworth began The Prelude in 1798 at the age of 28 and continued to work on it throughout his life. He never gave it a title; he called it the "Poem (title not yet fixed upon) to Coleridge" and in his letters to Dorothy Wordsworth referred to it as "the poem on the growth of my own mind". The poem was unknown to the general public until published three months after Wordsworth's death in 1850, its final name given to it by his widow Mary.The Prelude is widely regarded as Wordsworth's greatest work. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Prelude). The poem had six stanzas (160 lines) that we will analyze below:

Fair seed-time had my soul, and I grew up

Fostered alike by beauty and by fear:

Much favoured in my birth-place, and no less

In that beloved Vale to which erelong

We were transplanted;—there were we let loose

For sports of wider range. Ere I had told

Ten birth-days, when among the mountain slopes

Frost, and the breath of frosty wind, had snapped

The last autumnal crocus, ’twas my joy

With store of springes o’er my shoulder hung

To range the open heights where woodcocks run

Along the smooth green turf. Through half the night,

Scudding away from snare to snare, I plied

That anxious visitation;—moon and stars

Were shining o’er my head. I was alone,

And seemed to be a trouble to the peace

That dwelt among them. Sometimes it befell

In these night wanderings, that a strong desire

O’erpowered my better reason, and the bird

Which was the captive of another’s toil

Became my prey; and when the deed was done

I heard among the solitary hills

Low breathings coming after me, and sounds

Of undistinguishable motion, steps

Almost as silent as the turf they trod.

In this first stanza, we found that the journey of William Wordsworth was very difficult. In the line “I was alone, And seemed to be a trouble to the peace”. There is social aspect from this poem, that how difficult that he face for troubles.  “In these night wanderings, that a strong desire...O’erpowered my better reason, and the bird...Which was the captive of another’s toil...Became my prey” but, he tried to survive as well as possible althought many problems came.

Nor less, when spring had warmed the cultured Vale,

Moved we as plunderers where the mother-bird

Had in high places built her lodge; though mean

Our object and inglorious, yet the end

Was not ignoble. Oh! when I have hung

Above the raven’s nest, by knots of grass

And half-inch fissures in the slippery rock

But ill sustained, and almost (so it seemed)

Suspended by the blast that blew amain,

Shouldering the naked crag, oh, at that time

While on the perilous ridge I hung alone,

With what strange utterance did the loud dry wind

Blow through my ear! the sky seemed not a sky

Of earth—and with what motion moved the clouds!

And second stanza explained about the struggle of his life. That the weather was change and day by day he would pass the big trouble of his life. “the sky seemed not a sky...Of earth—and with what motion moved the clouds!” it is his imagination about the bad of world due to his bad life that he faced.

Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows

Like harmony in music; there is a dark

Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles

Discordant elements, makes them cling together

In one society. How strange, that all

The terrors, pains, and early miseries,

Regrets, vexations, lassitudes interfused

Within my mind, should e’er have borne a part,

And that a needful part, in making up

The calm existence that is mine when I

Am worthy of myself! Praise to the end!

Thanks to the means which Nature deigned to employ;

Whether her fearless visitings, or those

That came with soft alarm, like hurtless light

Opening the peaceful clouds; or she would use

Severer interventions, ministry

More palpable, as best might suit her aim.

In the third stanza, that told us everything will be change with the united of power. The power of togetherness as human to reach the bright victory. In this stanza, he wrote “the immortal spirit grows...Like harmony in music; there is a dark...Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles”.William Wordsworh believes that spirit would grow up and increase. There is some dark in life and he belives that the magic and amazing thing would come after pain.

One summer evening (led by her) I found

A little boat tied to a willow tree

Within a rocky cave, its usual home.

Straight I unloosed her chain, and stepping in

Pushed from the shore. It was an act of stealth

And troubled pleasure, nor without the voice

Of mountain-echoes did my boat move on;

Leaving behind her still, on either side,

Small circles glittering idly in the moon,

Until they melted all into one track

Of sparkling light. But now, like one who rows,

Proud of his skill, to reach a chosen point

With an unswerving line, I fixed my view

Upon the summit of a craggy ridge,

The horizon’s utmost boundary; far above

Was nothing but the stars and the grey sky.

She was an elfin pinnace; lustily

I dipped my oars into the silent lake,

And, as I rose upon the stroke, my boat

Went heaving through the water like a swan;

When, from behind that craggy steep till then

The horizon’s bound, a huge peak, black and huge,

As if with voluntary power instinct,

Upreared its head. I struck and struck again,

And growing still in stature the grim shape

Towered up between me and the stars, and still,

For so it seemed, with purpose of its own

And measured motion like a living thing,

Strode after me. With trembling oars I turned,

And through the silent water stole my way

Back to the covert of the willow tree;

There in her mooring-place I left my bark,—

And through the meadows homeward went, in grave

And serious mood; but after I had seen

That spectacle, for many days, my brain

Worked with a dim and undetermined sense

Of unknown modes of being; o’er my thoughts

There hung a darkness, call it solitude

Or blank desertion. No familiar shapes

Remained, no pleasant images of trees,

Of sea or sky, no colours of green fields;

But huge and mighty forms, that do not live

Like living men, moved slowly through the mind

By day, and were a trouble to my dreams.

In fourth stanza, we found the strength of Willam Wordswort. He is very confident to reach the goal, what he wants in this peace of  poem “With an unswerving line, I fixed my view....Upon the summit of a craggy ridge”. He tried and full of effort to achieve his dream for happiness although difficult.

Wisdom and Spirit of the universe!

Thou Soul that art the eternity of thought

. givest to forms and images a breath

And everlasting motion, not in vain

By day or star-light thus from my first dawn

Of childhood didst thou intertwine for me

The passions that build up our human soul;

Not with the mean and vulgar works of man,

But with high objects, with enduring things—

With life and nature—purifying thus

The elements of feeling and of thought,

And sanctifying, by such discipline,

Both pain and fear, until we recognise

A grandeur in the beatings of the heart.

Nor was this fellowship vouchsafed to me

With stinted kindness. In November days,

When vapours rolling down the valley made

A lonely scene more lonesome, among woods,

At noon and ‘mid the calm of summer nights,

When, by the margin of the trembling lake,

Beneath the gloomy hills homeward I went

In solitude, such intercourse was mine;

Mine was it in the fields both day and night,

And by the waters, all the summer long.

In this satanza explained that a study of sanctification which describes the nature purify the whole feeling with feelings of fear and pain that we are aware of the existence of grandeur in the wisdom and spirit of the universe. The elements of feeling and of thought, and santifying by such dicipline. Both pain and fear, until we recognise. 

 And in the frosty season, when the sun

Was set, and visible for many a mile

The cottage windows blazed through twilight gloom,

I heeded not their summons: happy time

It was indeed for all of us—for me

It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud

The village clock tolled six,—I wheeled about,

Proud and exulting like an untired horse

That cares not for his home. All shod with steel,

We hissed along the polished ice in games

Confederate, imitative of the chase

And woodland pleasures,—the resounding horn,

The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare.

So through the darkness and the cold we flew,

And not a voice was idle; with the din

Smitten, the precipices rang aloud;

The leafless trees and every icy crag

Tinkled like iron; while far distant hills

Into the tumult sent an alien sound

Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars

Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west

The orange sky of evening died away.

Not seldom from the uproar I retired

Into a silent bay, or sportively

Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,

To cut across the reflex of a star

That fled, and, flying still before me, gleamed

Upon the glassy plain; and oftentimes,

When we had given our bodies to the wind,

And all the shadowy banks on either side

Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still

The rapid line of motion, then at once

Have I, reclining back upon my heels,

Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs

Wheeled by me—even as if the earth had rolled

With visible motion her diurnal round!

Behind me did they stretch in solemn train,

Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched

Till all was tranquil as a dreamless sleep.

In this last stanza tells of someone who is in a state that collapsed and at that moment someone was not able to defend his life and in the end he wanted a death that would make life quieter without having to experience the dream will not be realized in real life. Not seldom from the uproar I retired. He feels tired with his problem and he doesn’t keep with the condition.

Then, this poem made by William Wordsworth is about his life experiences. it is there is a relationship with a landscape that bring a gift of something very soft which can calm the heart of a problem that Wordsworth wrote on the content of the opening of this poem. Complicated, but it signifies a power which is more disturbing, which at that time Wordsworth reminded by an incident is very large and painful that his presence is a big warning for him. This poem is one of the efforts or how God protects his people. A poetic call which is an effort to create and deliver a new genre. So, it talks about social life.

REFERENCES:

British Library, The Prolude (Book 1), http://www.bl.uk/works/the-prelude-book i#sthash.X40vIoLW.dpuf, (Accessed December 8, 2015)

Wikipedia, The Prolude, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Prelude#Literary_critic_on_The_Prelude, (Accessed December 8, 2015)

Cliffnotes, Analysis Of The Prolude, http://www.cliffsnotes.com/literature/p/the-prelude/critical-essays/analysis-of-the-prelude, (Accessed December 8, 2015)