A fire was once within my brain; And in my head a dull, dull pain; And fiendish faces one, two, three, Hung at my breasts, and pulled at me.
In this poem, Wordsworth gives a voice to a character on the margins of society, ostracized by their community (in this case, a mentally ill single mother) - reminiscent of William Blake's poetic spotlight on characters like the Chimney Sweep or the Little Black Boy. These stanzas particularly stood out to me; his word choice and intense imagery provides an apt reflection on the harrowing experience of madness/mental illness. The image of madness being depicted as a burning fire inside the woman's brain, and of the ghoulish faces physically pulling at her body, paint a bleak portrait of a woman alone in the world with only her demons to pester her.