dazzling day. . . Whispering Galleries. . . Masson, III, p. 300.
What was it?. . . my fancied felony. . . Masson, III, p. 310.
total revolt. . . Japp, I, p. 71.
headstrong act. . . magnify. . . Masson, III, pp. 312, 317.
even the brooks . . . seeking in Wales. . . Masson, III, p. 322.
You must recollect, Betty . . . Masson, III, p. 323.
two and a half hours. . . this vagrancy. . . Masson, III, p. 329.
to fly where no man pursued. . . Masson, III, p. 338.
real suffering. . . Masson, II, p. 55.
the last brief. . . expiring lamp. . . Masson, III, p. 343.
whole atmosphere. . . and in darkness. . . Masson, III, pp. 346–7.
unhappy countenance. . . barely decent. . . Masson, III, pp. 350–1.
Radix God. . . see Iain McCalman, ‘Mystagogues of Revolution’, in James Chandler and Kevin Gilmartin (eds), Romantic Metropolis: The Urban Scene of British Culture, 1780 –1840, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005, p. 192.
corrector of Greek proofs. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 28.
extremities such as these. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 19.
ballad-singing confraternity. . . John Thomas Smith, A Book for a Rainy Day, Or, Recollections of the Events of the Years 1766–1833, London: Methuen, 1905, p. 239.
natural black frame. . . Charles Lamb, ‘Recollections of a Late Royal Academician’ (1831) in The Complete Correspondence and Works of Charles Lamb, with an essay on his life and genius by Thomas Purnell, London: E. Moxton, 1870, III, p. 406.
ceiled with looking glasses. . . enriched with trees. . . Jerry White, A Great and Monstrous Thing: London in the Eighteenth Century, London: Bodley Head, 2011, p. 294.
the outcasts and pariahs. . . sitting. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 24.
ragged dirty shoes. . . common to them all. . . Francis Place, The Autobiography of Francis Place, edited with an introduction by Mary Thale, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1972, p. 71.
died on the spot. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 26.
by dreamy lamplight . . . shed tears. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 27.
fraud. . . De Quincey, ‘Some Thoughts on Biography’, in Japp (ed.), Posthumous Works of Thomas De Quincey, I, p. 116.
beauteous Wretches. . . the same circle. . . ‘An Account of the Life of Mr Richard Savage’, in Donald Greene (ed.), The Oxford Authors, Samuel Johnson, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984, p. 145.
nest-egg. . . Japp (ed.), Posthumous Works of Thomas De Quincey, I, p. 114.
on moonlight nights. . . fly to comfort. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 40.
many a charming family scene . . . Sophie in London, 1786; Being the Diary of Sophie v la Roche, trans. from the German by Clare Williams, London: Jonathan Cape, 1933, p. 141.
now in the occupation . . . cheerful and gay. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 34.
If she lived. . . meeting her. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 38.
stony-hearted stepmother. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 39.
concessions. . . Diary, p.18.
book that . . . does not permit itself to be read. . . Edgar Allan Poe, ‘The Man of the Crowd’, in Edgar Allan Poe, Thirty-Two Stories, edited by Stuart Levin and Susan F. Levine, Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing, 2000, p. 129.
Chapter 5: Summer Vacation
good and kind matron. . . under her roof. . . Robert Syers, History of Everton, Including Familiar Dissertations on the People, and Descriptive Delineations of the Several & Separate Properties of the Township, Liverpool: J. and G. Robinson, 1830, p. 303.
afloat in the heart of the town. . . W. Jones, The Liverpool Guide, Including a Sketch of the Environs, Liverpool, Crane and Jones, 1801, p. 34.
lost in thought . . . never passed away. . . Diary, p. 25.
the sentence hangs and turns. . . Diary, p. 55.
damnation to drink. . . Diary, p. 55.
talk about the war. . . Diary, p. 53.
as inferior beings. . . Diary, p. 50.
road down to hell. . . Diary, p. 36.
Chattertonian melancholia. . . Diary, p. 13.
I see Chatterton. . . at midnight. . . Diary, p. 22.
Edmund Spenser. . . NO. . . Diary, p. 15.
A few days ago. . . by my heart. . . Diary, pp. 20–1.
I image myself . . . not tell you. . . Diary, p. 22
second identity. . . Recollections, p. 120.
walked into the lanes . . . saved me trouble. . . Diary, p. 22.
Sir. . . lowly to prostrate myself. . . Diary, pp. 28–30.
I thought it . . . of their accomplishment. . . Diary, p. 28.
humble task. . . works might relate. . . Francis Jeffrey, Contributions to the Edinburgh Review, London: Longman Brown, 1846, I, p. 11.
Poetry has this much . . . call in question. . . ‘Southey’s Thalaba; a metrical Romance’, Edinburgh Review 1.1, October 1802, pp. 63–83.
What is a poet?. . . Brett and Jones (eds), Lyrical Ballads, p. 300.
the face of a darling Child. . . Richard Holmes, Coleridge: Early Visions 1772–1804, London: HarperCollins, 1989, p. 326.
feeble, fluttering, ingenious. . . Masson, II, p. 60.
electrical . . . were all new. . . Henry Cockburn, Life of Lord Jeffrey: With a Selection From His Correspondence, Edinburgh, A & C Black, 1852, p. 131.
I was not . . . my going there. . . Diary, p. 31.
dying on an island. . . Diary, p. 38.
admits of humour. . . Diary, p. 25.
Southey. . . metrical pathos. . . Diary, p. 54.
I suppose that most men. . . interest and happiness. . . Diary, pp. 40–2.
These particulars I gathered. . . Wordsworth or Coleridge. . . Diary, p. 44.
of Coleridge. . . go to sleep. . . Diary, p. 44.
My imagination flies. . . Diary, p. 55.
fears and schemes were put to flight. . . Jordan, p. 35.
Chapter 6: Residence at Oxford
Let there be a cottage. . . Jasmine. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 65.
A remarkable instance. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 180.
it would be out of nature. . . all others. . . Japp, I, p. 121.
My friendship is not. . . very happy . . . Japp, I, p. 121.
a rare thing. . . Mary Moorman, William Wordsworth: The Early Years, 1770–1803, Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1957, p. 568.
at your feet. . . Moorman, Early Years, p. 568.
Plant it. . . as yours. . . Moorman, Early Years, p. 587.
Your sincere friend. . . Moorman, Early Years, p. 595.
The Beau . . . his verses. . . Moorman, Early Years, p. 184.
In your poems. . . take no interest. . . Mary Gordon, ‘Christopher North’: A Memoir of John Wilson, Edinburgh: Edmonston and Douglas, 1862, pp. 26–32.
Nothing in England . . . W. A. Speck, Robert Southey: Entire Man of Letters, New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006, p. 101.
a convulsive inclination. . . Duncan Wu, Hazlitt: The First Modern Man, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008, p. 11.
William Hazlitt. . . twang of the Bow-string. . . Griggs, II, pp. 990–1.
What foolish thing. . .good wishes to them both. . . Jordan, pp. 34–5.
It was Ann Radcliffe. . . Masson, III, p. 282.
heaviness of heart. . . Griggs, II, p. 975.
determined hater of the French. . . William Knight (ed.), Letters of the Wordsworth Family from 1787 to 1855, Boston and London: Ginn and Co., 1907, I, p. 150.
No longer. . . of the world. . . Masson, II, p. 10.
Singularly barren. . . Jordan, p. 21.
knew nothing. . . escaped. . . Masson, II, p. 55.
one hundred words. . . pompous. . . Masson, II, p. 75.
When you gave me permission. . . acquaintance. . . Jordan, p. 36.
Some years ago. . . converse with nature. . . Jordan, p. 37.
repent the notice. . . Jordan, p. 41.
wet and cheerless. . . ‘Confessions’, p.
55.
In an hour. . . mail-coach. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 46.
the majestic intellect. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 47.
torments. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 47.
shut him up. . . George Gilfillan, Second Gallery of Literary Portraits, Edinburgh: James Hogg, 1852, p. 298.
I sought him. . . bodily fashion. . . ‘Confessions’, pp. 42–3.
an absolute revelation . . . men. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 46.
without much regarding. . . north-west passage. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 53.
It was my disease. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 54.
a size too large. . . Virginia Woolf, ‘The English Mail Coach’, in Andrew McNeillie (ed.), The Essays of Virginia Woolf, 1904–1912, New York: Harcourt Brace Javanovich, 1986, I, p. 365.
But Mr Lamb. . . began our conversation. . . Hogg, p. 71.
began to inquire. . . waiting. . . Recollections, p. 34.
phantom-self. . . Recollections, p. 120.
spiritualised object. . . coal cellar in disguise. . . ‘Mail-Coach’, pp. 197, 195.
foolish panic. . . Recollections, pp. 122–3.
guilty weight. . . ‘Mail-Coach’, p. 230.
long silence. . . willingly recall. . . Jordan, p. 42.
the frost of death. . . ‘Suspiria’, p. 143.
one CRIME of OPIUM. . . Molly Lefebure, Samuel Taylor Coleridge: A Bondage of Opium, London: Quartet, 1974, p. 40.
Sources of Happiness. . . Diary, pp. 72–3.
look dreadful. . . Michael Neve, ‘Spaced’, London Review of Books, III, No. 16, 3 Sep 1981.
loveliest of landscapes. . . like a guilty thing. . . Recollections, p. 122.
Chapter 7: Retrospect: Love of Nature Leading to Love of Mankind
there was a limit. . . Recollections, p. 124.
to have not been original. . . Recollections, p. 35.
sent a carriage for him. . . Recollections, p. 43.
in height. . . mighty music. . . Recollections, p. 46.
not been a happy one. . . Recollections, p. 51.
rolling, rudderless. . . Griggs, IV, p. 651.
utterly changed. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 78.
current of my own. . . Griggs, IV, p. 888.
Sara! Sara! Love me!. . . Seamus Perry (ed.), Coleridge’s Notebooks: A Selection, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002, p. 96.
perpetual struggle. . . poison-taking. . . Griggs, II, p. 1178.
idolatry of that family. . . Kenneth Curry (ed.), New Letters of Robert Southey, 1792–1810, New York: Columbia University Press, 1965, I, pp. 44–9.
under the full dominion. . . Recollections, p. 43.
gossiping taste. . . Recollections, p. 154.
a cruel sweat on the brow. . . see Richard Holmes, Coleridge: Darker Reflections, London: HarperCollins, 1998, p. 96.
besieged by decay. . . Recollections, p. 56.
Two faces. . . ever the same. . . Ernest Hartley Coleridge (ed.), Anima Poetae: From the Unpublished Notebooks of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, London: Heinemann, 1895, pp. 176–7.
drivelling to the common pile-wort . . . a sucking-pig. . . For a selection of the reviews see E. Smith, An Estimate of William Wordsworth by his Contemporaries, 1793–1822, Oxford: Blackwell, 1932.
routs, dinners, morning calls. . . Mary Moorman, William Wordsworth: A Biography, The Later Years, 1803–1850, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1966, p. 104.
not a man in the Kingdom. . . Lindop, p. 146.
no doubt of the source. . . Japp, 1891, I, p. 133.
I never knew two pairs . . . stops growing. . . Griggs, III, pp. 37–8.
sudden shock. . . Recollections, p. 127.
apparition. . . cordial manner. . . Recollections, pp. 127–8.
stunned. . . expression of benignity. . . Recollections, pp. 128–9.
all fire. . . impassioned intellect. . . Recollections, pp. 131, 188.
fourteen steps. . . Recollections, p. 134.
showed him the universe. . . Stopford Brooke, Dove Cottage: Wordsworth’s Home from 1800–1808, London: Macmillan, 1894, p. 53.
this sequestered nook. . . Wordsworth, ‘The Green Linnet’.
What-like?. . . Recollections, p. 135.
Is it possible. . . depths below all depths. . . Recollections, pp. 135–6, 139.
only to laugh at it. . . Recollections, p. 308.
so very shy. . . Knight (ed.), Letters, I, p. 325.
whatever fate Befal me. . . see Alethea Hayter, The Wreck of the Abergavenny: The Wordsworths and Catastrophe, Basingstoke: Macmillan, 2002, pp. 23–4.
superior. . . self-contempt. . . Recollections, p. 207.
the forest of his genius. . . Recollections, p. 139.
enshrined Mr and Mrs Crump. . . Moorman, Early Years, p. 441.
at t’maist o’ t’ houses i’ these parts. . . Hardwicke Drummond Rawnsley, Reminiscences of Wordsworth among the Peasantry of Westmoreland, London: Dillon’s University Bookshop, 1968, p. 20.
good enough for me. . . Recollections, p. 211.
city tailor. . . Recollections, p. 215.
ancient fireside friends. . . Recollections, p. 221.
calumny and ingratitude. . . Griggs, I, p. 298.
we are by no means glad. . . Moorman, Early Years, p. 140.
at the zenith. . . Recollections, p. 321.
ridiculed. . .effeminate. . . Recollections, p. 319.
doomed household. . . Recollections, p. 324.
woman you admire. . . Japp, I, p. 285.
All of us loved her. . . Recollections, p. 206.
gift from God . . . not have had. . . Recollections, p. 201.
Chapter 8: Home at Grasmere
struggling with pain . . . in the highway by himself. . . Recollections, pp. 77–9.
Wordsworth the great poet. . . Edwin W. Marrs (ed.), The Letters of Charles and Mary Lamb, Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, II, p. 274.
sloven. . . those he opposes. . . Moorman, Later Years, p. 124.
having been treated. . . expectations. . . Jordan, p. 87.
You have sent . . . before him. . . Hogg, p. 102.
I do therefore ask you. . . Japp, I, p. 136.
I have suffered considerable. . . Japp, I, p. 138.
Some of them. . . gloom of the hall. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 78.
aerial dungeon. . . Recollections, p. 344.
a chamber within a chamber. . . Recollections, p. 251.
he is loving, gentle and happy. . . Knight (ed.), Letters, I, p. 425.
Mr de Quincey has been here. . . Jordan, p. 57.
little Chinese maiden. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 365.
her sole tutor. . . gentle thoughts. . . Knight (ed.), Letters, I, p. 436.
a sixteen stoner. . . William Maginn, ‘John Wilson, Esq’, Fraser’s Magazine, 3 (Apr 1831), p. 364.
balmy odours. . . see Karl Miller, Electric Shepherd: A Likeness of James Hogg, London: Faber, 2003, p. 129.
more brilliant . . . principles of poetry. . . Recollections, p. 123.
headlong nonsense. . . H. A. Page, II, p. 175.
the stormiest pleasures. . . Recollections, p. 362.
I abhor stairs. . . Gordon, Memoir of John Wilson, p. 89.
a most tempestuous youth. . . Masson, V, p. 279.
he rarely walked. . . Jordan, p. 217.
I have often remarked . . . circumstances. . . Recollections, p. 160.
no neighbour that buys them. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 377.
dearest spot of all. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 376.
A monstrous incongruity!. . . Japp, II, p. 5.
that beautiful and wild-hearted girl. . . Japp, II, p. 285.
stop the press. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 294.
the very great injustice . . . Jordan, p. 132.
Never describe Wordsworth . . . Recollections, p. 381.
it gives me great concern . . . Middle Years, pt 1, pp. 317–18.
fending and proving. . . Recollections, p. 376.
<
br /> You must take it . . . decently. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 339.
much anxiety and care. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 320.
dismembered creatures. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 337.
When I get to the house. . .down in it. . . Jordan, pp. 317–18.
joy in the house. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 314.
at all in fault. . . Jordon, p. 198.
both respect. . . Second-thoughts. . . Griggs, III, pp. 305–6.
according to all analogy. . . Hogg, p. 24.
Sometimes we fancy. . . pleasure. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 169.
I observe you always say. . . out of your way. . . Japp, II, p. 3.
in exact proportion. . . promise. . . Griggs, III, p. 927.
twenty Atlantics. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 85.
the motion of time. . . haunted my sleep. . . ‘Confessions’, p. 53.
he recommended . . . the next generation. . . Masson, III, p. 112.
three Walking Stewarts. . . Masson, III, p. 107.
forgeries. . . Japp, I, p. 262.
my non-identity. . . Japp, I, p. 256.
We could not help laughing. . . Japp, I, p. 283.
when I first came here . . . sitting-room. . . Jordan, p. 244.
malice has done the work. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 338.
Pleasant indeed it is . . . ravaged. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 337.
perfect paradise. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 369.
in three weeks. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 363.
When are we to see you?. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 371.
He has been in cold Countries. . . Jordan, p. 254.
It was. . . on a November night. . . Recollections, p. 301.
Chapter 9: Residence in Dove Cottage and the Revolution
little orphan maiden. . . Recollections, p. 301.
one of our own Family. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 374.
I can tell you. . . smallness of the house. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 376.
lazy, luxurious and sensual. . . Recollections, p. 269.
youthful charge. . . Recollections, p. 370.
smothered. . . Recollections, p. 294.
tip-top of exaltation. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 374.
not the least atom of beauty. . . Middle Years, pt 1, p. 370.
impersonation of the dawn. . . Recollections, p. 372.
the only very intimate friend. . . Recollections, p. 288.
the sound of pealing anthems. . . Recollections, p. 332.
trace the course . . . reign of the cricket. . . Recollections, pp. 228–9.
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