I really like this book as a means to place the brilliant romantic poetry of Wordsworth and Coleridge into perspective based upon their lives and times. Clearly, they struggled like others of the period, most notably Keats, to survive while creating their immortal works. The poetry of this glorious window while the landscape outside the big cities of England was still pure is so scintillating and inspiring even as industrialization gained traction there. Wordsworth hated London and adored walking through his beloved Lake District with his sister, Dorothy. What intrigues me most is the way they perceive their Arcadian reality. Wordsworth was pantheistic and inspired by what he saw in the landscape. Coleridge stumbled onto opium through DeQuincy to soothe various medical ailments and his visions assume the surreal shape of luminous, opium dreams, at times. Clearly, Wordsworth was the more gifted poet. They both labored under a romantic imagination seeking aesthetic beauty or the harmony between man and nature within a cultural lens in which Edmund Burke in "On the Sublime and Beautiful" seeks to give attributes to the "sublime": 1) obscurity 2) power 3) privations 4) vastness 5) infinity 6) succession 7) uniformity. They were also like others of their heyday concerned with the "picturesque" and were influenced by painters of the period, notably Turner. He informed the poets of the period who were fascinated by the techniques of Turner's brush strokes to capture transformational light in the landscape. They tried to confront their experience honestly if not idealistically and to "see what it was that they saw." They looked at life at the threshold of perception and consciousness with the tension between subject and object to shed glorious light in their poetic imaginations expressed so well in Wordsworth's "Immortality Ode": "The sunshine is a glorious birth | But yet I know, where'er I go | That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. | Whither is fled the visionary gleam | Where is it now, the glory and the dream?" Wordsworth once wrote of Milton: "Thou hadst a voice that soundeth like the sea." What a sublime, timeless legacy these dear, struggling, country gentlemen left us as Byatt has made so luminously clear in her wonderful book.