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Oh Wordsworth! Wordsworth! In vain you have scattered thy heavy words Unanchored by human character, sighing, suffering or thought They to be scudded by the winds towards Nothing, but a pile of chaffs and morsels in midfield of naught But once you did captivate the heart of a lad and lass When you wrote about the splendor in the grass Tented with the canopy of the glory of the flower Since then your prose froze, sank never again to tower Yet to the above well deserved praise one small correction I am obliged to raise This is done without any malice or bad intention but the fact of truth should not be snaffled its mention That these soft lines of human treasure were buried in 'ode' beyond any measure under the weight of ten stanzas that ware wilt any reader pleasure Oh Wordsworth if you had just written half less your message and verse would have so much more grace Failing to recite your long lines of 'nature' at school The teacher called me loud and clear ‘You damned fool’ Stone cold at heart she could never feel or tell How arid, dull to death and ludicrous was ‘Peter bell’ Oh Wordsworth! Wordsworth! In vain you have summoned the earth, sun and creeks That rush in the maze of forest gloom Your verse is doused with heavy dunce to be a doom And never your pen treads with your colleagues peaks The wording of your prose in human aspect is low It teaches me the nothingness of things Word after word line by line about nothing You gathered winds and storms but never let them see a show The anticipated climax that never culminated into its conclusion The converging clouds dissipated leaving the reader struck with illusion But some dignitary scholars of the world idol you As the distinguished poet of nature They teach your philosophy in every college lecture “He who has mourned and wept to know The sweet memories of childhood, friendship and love first glow Once they leave us, we forever live in vexing pain of their shadow” Isaac Ziv Share|