stributor of Stamps for Westmoreland (400 pounds a year), and on his
resignation of that office in his son's favor, he is placed on the
Civil List for a well deserved pension of 300 pounds. On Southey's
death, in 1843, he is appointed Poet Laureate. He died at Grasmere on
April 23rd, 1850.

Wordsworth's principal long poems are: _The Prelude_ (1805 published
1850); _The Excursion_ (1814); _The White Doe of Rylstone_ (1815) and
_Peter Bell The Waggoner_ (1819). His fame rests principally on his
shorter narrative poems, his meditative lyrics, including his two great
odes, _To Duty_ and _On the Intimations of Immortality_, and on the
sonnets, which rank with the finest in the language. The longer poems
have many fine passages exhibiting his powers of graphic description,
and illustrating his mystical philosophy of nature.

Thomas Carlyle's description of Wordsworth is of interest: "For the
rest, he talked well in his way; with veracity, easy brevity, and
force, as a wise tradesman would of his tools and workshop, and as no
unwise one could. His voice was good, frank, and sonorous, though
practically clear, distinct, and forcible, rather than melodious; the
tone of him, businesslike, sedately confident; no discourtesy, yet no
anxiety about being courteous. A fine wholesome rusticity, fresh as
his mountain breezes, sat well on the stalwart veteran, and on all he
said and did. You would have said that he was a usually taciturn man,
glad to unlock himself to audience sympathetic and intelligent, when
such offered itself. His face bore marks of much, not always peaceful,
meditation; the look of it not bland or benevolent so much as close,
impregnable, and hard; a man _multa tacere loquive paratus_, in a world
where he had experienced no lack of contradictions as he strode along.
The eyes were not very brilliant, but they had a quiet clearness; there
was enough of brow, and well-shaped; rather too much cheek ('horse
face' I have heard satirists say); face of squarish shape, and
decidedly longish, as I think the head itself was (its length going
horizontal); he was large-boned, lean, but still firm-knit, tall, and
strong-looking when he stood, a right good old steel-gray figure, with
rustic simplicity and dignity about him, and a vivacious strength
looking through him, which might have suited one of those old
steel-gray markgrafs whom Henry the Fowler set up towards the 'marches'
and do battle with the intrusive heathen