that mighty Princesse did complaine / Of grieuous mischiefes, which a wicked Fay / Had wrought ….

Other people may ride atilt against all the problems one bruises head and heart over. Good luck go with them, and more power to their elbows!

Wordsworth’s genius is fully honoured, but he is also the proud bibliophobe - sacrilegiously cutting open precious pages with a used butter-knife on the kitchen table - as well as the supremely competent manager of his own interests.

The brain lies a little farther forward than in stenostomids but not so far forward as in Chordarium.