I'm sorry, but I really don't see what the fuss is all about. After about 50 interminable pages of condescending poetic hokum in the form of Wordsworth's famous (infamous?) Preface, you get to the poems, which are, you know, nice and all, some of them have good rhymes, there are some undoubtedly beautiful passages...but it's all a bit meh. Apart from "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner", which is kind of awesome. Possibly this all makes me a bit of a philistine. Or just a Modernist. (I do like T.S. Eliot.)
Also, the whole romanticisation-of-poverty thing? Ugh. Just ugh. Poverty is not fun. It is not industrious, religious, healthy, clean, etc., especially not when written by a well-off middle-class guy whose brother went to Cambridge.
I think the Romantics annoy me just a little bit.