Prince Charles Honors Wordsworth’s “Extraordinary Power” To Capture Nature | Royal | New


The Prince of Wales read from Tintern Abbey, a poem by British poet William Wordsworth, in a pre-recorded segment for Today’s Radio 4 program. Prince Charles is a patron of the Wordsworth Trust and recorded his reading on Monday at Birkhall, his home in Scotland. In these uncertain times due to the global coronavirus health crisis, Prince Charles reminded listeners of the beauty of nature.

William Wordsworth is considered one of the great English romantic poets and was born on April 7, 1770.

In today’s program segment, Prince Charles said: “I chose this poem from Wordsworth because, curiously, I know this beautiful region around Tintern Abbey in Valley Y

“I understand so well how the power of the landscape should move us, it is quite deep.

“I may have a hard time painting a landscape watercolor.

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“So, in a strange way, when you sit down and observe it very carefully, you observe the movement of the cloud, the light and everything else, the extraordinary thing is that you almost feel the landscape.

“You can almost feel the heart and the soul of the landscape.

“For me, Wordsworth captures the power of the landscape so well to move us, in a deep and extraordinary way.

“This is why, with landscapes, we must preserve them.

“We have to understand that man working in harmony with nature is absolutely crucial.

“This poem I found ends in this extraordinary, moving and special way, so it’s one of my favorites. “

Prince Charles then began to read the poem, he begins:

Five years have passed; five summers, with length

Five long winters! and again I hear

These waters, rolling from their mountain springs

With a soft interior whisper. – Once again

Should I see these steep and high cliffs,

That on a wild isolated scene impress

Deeper thoughts of isolation; and connect

The landscape with the calm of the sky.


The day has come when I rest again

Here under this dark sycamore, and see

These parcels of chalets, these tufts of orchards,

Who in this season, with their unripe fruits,

Are dressed in a green color and get lost

“Mid groves and groves. Again i see

These hedges, barely hedges, these little lines

Wild sports wood: these pastoral farms,

Green at the door itself; and smoke crowns

Sent, in silence, among the trees!

With uncertain notice, as it may seem

Wanderers in the homeless woods,

Or a hermit’s cave, where by its fire

The Hermit sits alone.


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