“the real language of men”

When Wordsworth asserted that his poetry is an experiment in writing “the real language of men” he probably did not have women in mind. 

But I wonder whether he did think about the language in which men (and women) recite poetry. The deepened voice, the earnest tone, the profound mien. In short, the trappings of seriousness that, at least nowadays, lend a poetry recital the air of a rundown circus: the poet a clown who’s lost hold of the power to amuse.