Welcome back to the daily poem here on the Close Reeds Podcast Network.

I'm David Kern.

Today's poem is by William Wordsworth, who lived from 1770 to 1850,

and is, without a doubt, one of the most famous poets to ever write in the English language.

Yesterday, I read a poem by William Blake called London,

and it was a fairly depressing poem about the state of London in his time.

And I mentioned that William Harmon mentioned

that there is another poem from somewhere around the same era,

with another take on London of the Times.

And that poem is William Wordsworth's composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3rd, 1802.

And I'm going to bring that poem to you today in conversation, so to speak, with the poem that I read yesterday.

So this poem was composed in 1802 and published in 1807.

It goes like this.

Earth has not anything to show more fair. Dull would he be of soul who could pass by a sight so touching in its majesty. This city now doth like a garment

wear the beauty of the morning. Silent, bear, ships, towers, domes, theaters, and temples lie open

unto the fields and to the sky, all bright and glittering in the smokeless air. Never did

sun more beautifully steep in his first splendor, valley, rock, or hill. Ne'er saw I never fell to calm so deep.

The river glideth at his own sweet will.

Dear God, the very houses seem asleep,

and all that mighty heart is lying still.

This is a sonnet written to the city of London. It's an Italian sonnet. And it's interesting because Wordsworth is often known, of course, as a nature poet. Many of his poems are consumed with nature, with the beauty of nature, the value of nature, the benefits of being out in nature. And he, of course, takes it further than just those trite statements that I just made.

He gets into the spiritual nature of nature, the spiritual values of nature,

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