Before I go watch some scary movies, I should probably make this blog post.

I don't know if I can ever take Wordsworth's poem "I wandered Lonely as a Cloud" seriously, after Dr. Roessner using it as an example in our creative writing class to explain inverted syntax. I mean, it's a nice poem (a little boring because it's too happy, I guess), but the last stanza will always loop back to Roessner's class. Whenever anyone discusses archaic language, I immediately think of that poem; and when I see someone sitting on a couch, occasionally my mind will say to me, "For oft when on my couch I lie...", and I'll smile a little bit.

However, Romantic poets aren't for me. Their poetry is nice, but I can't recall ever having a profound interest in any certain poet.