Poetry-wise. But the museum version of him is apparently pretty good. So says Sam Jordison on his Guardian blog.

Let’s not beat about the bush. Daffodils is a crap poem. For a start, clouds are rarely lonely, especially in Cumbria. For second, who cares if Wordsworth saw some flowers? For third, and for all sorts of reasons, the following is surely one of the most painful rhymes in the English language: “A poet could not but be gay, / In such a jocund company.”

Naturally, I’d quite enjoy recreating some of the controversy that followed a similar statement I once made about Henry James, but I find it hard to imagine that anyone will disagree this time. I’ve never come across anyone that likes the poem, and I don’t think I ever will.

That’s why it’s always struck me as odd – and wrong – that the tourist board of somewhere as beautiful and inspiring as the Lake District should insist on using it to promote the region, while the extent of their cynicism and literary blindness is only too well demonstrated by their attempt to turn Wordsworth’s mawkish verses into a rap.