There is pleasure in poetic pains Which only poets know. shifts and turns, Th' and inventions To which the mind resorts, in of Though apt, yet coy, and difficult to win-- T'arrest the fleeting images that fill mirror of the mind, and hold them fast, And force them sit, 'till he has pencil'd off A faithful likeness of the forms he views; ..... Are occupations of the poet's mind So pleasing, and that the thought With such address from of sad import. . . . (Cowper, Task, 2.285-93, 298-300) (1) the winter of 1801-02, Wordsworth was in great deal of pain, poetically and otherwise (Curtis, 3-26). Having attempted, and failed, to add third book to the poem to Coleridge in December, 1801, Wordsworth resumed his painstaking revisions of The Pedlar at the end of January, yet soon despaired of completing it to his satisfaction. Experiencing poetic pains devoid of pleasure, Wordsworth's fruitless chace of terms during this period constantly let him physically the worse for wear, as Dorothy's journal regularly attests. After noting on February 28th, for example, Win very ill, employed with the pedlar, she wrote on March 3rd, was so unlucky as to propose to rewrite Pedlar. Wm got to work and was worn to death (73, 74). Unable thus to steal away from--let alone steel himself against--such themes of sad import, Wordsworth found relief in being read to by Dorothy. Nearly as often as she records Wordsworth's insomnia and assorted somatic pains, Dorothy quickly notes as well that she rea d him to sleep or attempted to distract him from his own words with those of others, and between December, 1801, and June, 1802, the two read widely in Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, Daniel, Giles and Phineas Fletcher, Drayton, Jonson, and Milton (see Dorothy Wordsworth and Wu). With the completion of new work (including revisions to the Preface) for the 1802 edition of Lyrical Ballads early that spring, Wordsworth's poetic pains finally won him new set of as his poetry suddenly manifested an astonishing range of formal experimentation for poet whose voice had heretofore largely confined itself to the cadences of (Miltonic) blank verse and his own peculiar adaptations of ballad stanzas. Appropriating at various times such diverse forms as rhyme royalle, the Spenserian stanza, variety of short Elizabethan lyric stanzas, Italian and Miltonic sonnets, and the irregular Pindaric ode, Wordsworth appeared to find to the poetic crisis of the winter in these multiform expedients and inven tions, (Curtis 62-69; Heath 22-24, 123-26). Indeed, as Wordsworth later wrote in an unpublished Advertisement for the two-volume Poems of 1807 (where many of these lyrics first appeared): Short Poems of which these volumes consist, were chiefly composed to refresh my mind during the progress of work of length and labor, in which I have for some time been engaged; and to furnish me with employment when I had not to apply myself to that work, or hope that I should proceed with it successfully. . . . They were composed with much pleasure to my own mind, & I build upon that remembrance hope that they may afford profitable pleasure to many readers. (P2V 541) As Jared Curtis remarked of Wordsworth's crisis of 1802, these lyric poems ought to be read as a remedy, release, refreshing and pleasure-giving employment arising almost in recompense for the poet's discouragement and irresolution over the 'work of length and labor' (12). Implicit in Curtis's observation, though never finally articulated, is what I will argue here: Wordsworth's resolution consisted, however paradoxically, in releasing himself from the apparent freedom of blank verse for the binding schemes of form--a nominal loss for which there was indeed abundant recompense. In of terms, Wordsworth turned in 1802 to the chase of older meters and forms, for it was only in their liberating restraints that he could finally steal . …