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Gentleman's Magazine 1850 part 2 p.461 
  
and uniform; grand in their isolation, dignified in their  
sorrows. They are not creatures of the market or the haven,  
of the senate or the forum. His lovers do not whisper under  
moonlit balconies; his heroes are not the heroes of war or  
the tournament. To this exemption or defect in his mind may  
be ascribed, in some measure, the tardy reception of his  
earlier poetry. It was not merely that its unadorned diction 
proved insipid to palates long vitiated by a conventional  
phraseology. It was not merely that his occasional  
negligence of structure seemed bald and shapeless to eyes  
accustomed to the eleborate architecture of Pope and Gray.  
But even the more imaginative and indulgent portion of his  
audience perceived a want in one of the prime aliments of  
poetic inspiration, at least in Christian literature.  
Wordsworth therefore, in consequence of this want, was  
enforced beyond any poet on record to create and discipline  
the sympathies of his readers before he could receive his  
merited "Plaudite." His Prelude reveals the secrets of his  
idiosyncrasy, and in the growth of his mind and his early  
circumstances, we discover many of the conditions which his  
works require and presuppose in the readers of them. 
  
We will now, under the guidance of Wordsworth's own  
disclosures, proceed to trace the progress and maturity of  
that imagination, which having at a very early period  
banished from his verse all traditional and meretricious  
ornament, replaced English poetry upon the solid and lofty  
basis that it occupied under the dynasty commencing with  
Chaucer and closing with Milton. We say from a very early,  
but not the earliest period of his writings. For the  
"Descriptive Sketches," which were afterwards condemned by  
Wordsworth himself as vicious in their principles of  
composition, were in the general character of their diction  
more nearly allied to the style of Goldsmith, and the best  
portions of Darwin, than to any subsequent productions of  
the Lake school. 
  
"His soul," he tells us, "had a fair seed time." Fairer  
indeed had none for the mission it was hereafter to fulfil.  
Chaucer in the centre of a spledid court and amid the  
symbols of a gorgeous ritual; Spenser lapped in chivalrous  
romance and familiar with the stately paladins and  
ceremonial of the "western Gloriana;" Shakespere "full of  
dealings with the world, yet shielded from its grosser  
contacts by the saturnian orb of his compact imagination; or 
Milton surrounded by scrolls and volumes of all time, and  
nerved by the stern zealotry of Puritanism - had none of  
them more befitting training for his vocation than the poet  
of Helvellyn, Glaramara, and Borrowdale. The Derwent,  
"fairest of rivers," 
  
  
Blended its murmurs with his nurse's song,  
And from its alder shades and rocky falls,  
And from its fords and shallows, sent a voice  
That flowed along his dreams.  
He was "ere he had told ten birthdays" a keen sportsman,  
setting springes to catch woodcocks on the open heights,  
bearing his rod and angle into the heart of solitary glens:  
bold and fearless a rider as the erl king himself, and yet  
he would beguile a long summer day as willingly as Walter  
Scott himself in listening to the simple annals of the  
dalesman or the legends of village schoolmasters and  
garrulous dames. Bird-nesting is a part of most boys'  
education. But few boys would seem to have run more imminent 
risks, and none certainly have given a more graphic  
description of them than is contained in the following  
lines, - 
  
  
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,  
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