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William Wordsworth (1770-1850) I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on top o’er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance The waves beside them danced; but they Outdid the sparkling waves in glee; A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company; I gazed- and gazed-but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft when in my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye that's the bliss of solitude; And then my hearth with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. Diagnosis: Wordsworth had nature as his religion, which has been the main theme of his work in addition to a characteristic of romanticism. And it is also quite clear on this poem. As literary apparatus, we've got Alliteration on the second line of the first stanza, alliteration and assonance about the fifth line of the first stanza and personification on the last line of the first stanza. On the next stanza, we have a simile on the very first line, inversion about the eleventh line and personification on the previous line. On the third stanza, we've got assonance, alliteration and repetition of the word "waves" to the first line, and again repetition on the seventeenth line. About the forth stanza, we've got antithesis on the twentieth line and a metaphor on the online. In addition, we have alliteration on the last line. Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834) Part II of this Rime of the Ancient Mariner The sun now rose upon the right: from this carne he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down to the ocean. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo! And I had done an hellish thing, And it might work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! Said that, the bird to slay That made the breeze to blow! Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averred, I'd killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,.