Premium access to a caring network Pricing:įree Plan: $0 Per Month (5,000 characters per month) #Geekybrackets textify generator# Pay yearly for Rytr premium and receive 2 free months. Surfer is another on the list of AI writing tools that may help you design your material quickly. Good reports and blog post outline/briefs are both possible with this tool. Using its features, you may swiftly improve your search engine rankings, generate content ideas through web crawling, and publish SEO-friendly articles. Its document editor lets you copy and paste without reformatting into your CMS. Features:Ĭreate an AI outline with headers and paragraphsĬontent editor: write with guidelines and ideas You simply have to complete the formatting once, and their document editor has all the HTML tags built in. The auditing tool helps enhance existing pages. Grow flow improves your website’s content. William Wordsworth was born in Cockermouth, Cumberland, in 1770-the same year as gave us Beethoven, Hegel, and Hölderlin-and died at the age of eighty, rich in the knowledge of his huge accomplishments, in Rydal Mount, Westmorland, in 1850.Keyword surfer is a browser plugin that checks Google for keywords. In those eighty years, Wordsworth brought a unique poetry to English letters and to the world it had never before been seen, nor has it since. He spent his last couple of decades, after many years of less genial reception (see, for example, Byron’s, Shelley’s, and Keats’ responses to Wordsworth), enjoying his well-earned popularity amongst the early Victorians. Therefore, you will not scruple when a difficult point of Law occurs, to consult me.’ He had many friends in high places, including Queen Victoria herself, and he was awarded honorary degrees by both Durham and Oxford-honours which Wordsworth responded to with dry wit in a letter to Henry Crabb Robinson (28 July 1838): ‘I forgot to mention that the University of Durham the other day by especial convocation conferred upon me the honorary degree of L.L.D. Wordsworth possesses one of the most intriguing biographies of all the poets, which is itself indispensable for understanding his poetry. In his youth, for example, he was fired with the revolutionary zeal which in the 1790s-while he was in his twenties-infected so many Europeans whilst the ideals and the resentments of The French Revolution matured and, ultimately, plummeted into La Terreur. The Revolution’s bloody turn, which appalled Wordsworth, affected him for the rest of his life. Yet, like many, he remained a lover of the Rousseauan ideals which animated the early revolution. Thus, in what is perhaps his most ambitious work, The Prelude, his poetic autobiography, he could say of the Revolutionary era, ‘Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,’ and also could denounce the violence and ‘atheism’ of Robespierre and the other architects of the terror. One begins to get a sense, just from the music and the longing of this single line of iambic pentameter, of how sorrow and joy beautifully intermingle in Wordsworth they do so in a truly personal voice which ought to be the sincere envy of all us poets who cannot match that sincerity. The results often move his readers to tears. Wordsworth sings of walks and of the man-and the man is himself. His chief works are-like Proust’s À la recherche du temps perdu, or even Dante’s Commedia-explorations of the entire world by way of the self. Indeed, for these poets, the distinction between world and self is hardly relevant, since the former is to be experienced only by way of the latter, and the latter experiences nothing other than the former. In Wordsworth’s poetry, a personal voice-indeed a whole personality-comes out with incredible vividness and force. In this he is virtually the opposite of (say) Shakespeare, who banishes his own personal voice about as much as is possible in the hugely personal practice of literary creation. Those of us who love Wordsworth’s poetry, then (and he does have his detractors, though these people I do not understand), love the man himself. So great and impressive is his soul, one almost feels he lives today with us he is imprinted upon his surroundings in recording them, he (in a sense) makes them for us. And he is not so much a distant, admired figure as he is a dear friend to those who love to read him and hear the music of his lines.
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