I swoon with Claire over maybe the best poem in English, and talk about its strange non-title, what makes this poem "Romantic," the relationship between the self and nature, between the past and the present, and between childhood and adulthood. We consider Wordsworth's claim that "all which we behold is full of blessings," how the mind can become a mansion full of lovely forms, and come to the conclusion that every single second of our lives is a potential masterpiece.