 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
312
SONG
[Come give us the health to the dearest on earth]
Come give us the health to the dearest on earth
To the fairest the first & the best
The comfort of joy & the sunlight of mirth
From the south & the east to the west
Then heres to the suns that illumine the earth
To the flowers that in winter are blooming
To the gems that are found above purchase & worth
The love & the beauty of woman
To the fairest the first & the best
The comfort of joy & the sunlight of mirth
From the south & the east to the west
Then heres to the suns that illumine the earth
To the flowers that in winter are blooming
To the gems that are found above purchase & worth
The love & the beauty of woman
Then give us the health to the dearest on earth
To the gem of all climates & soils
To the heart stirring pulse that enlivens our mirth
& the comfort that sweetens our toils
Then heres to the flowers in the desert of care
That in calms & in tempests are blooming
& heres to the angels of earth—so they are
The love & the beauty of woman
To the gem of all climates & soils
To the heart stirring pulse that enlivens our mirth
& the comfort that sweetens our toils
Then heres to the flowers in the desert of care
That in calms & in tempests are blooming
& heres to the angels of earth—so they are
The love & the beauty of woman
The charm that gives sweetness to wine & to mirth
& the balm of our anguish & thrall
The welcome & wealth of the cottagers hearth
& the gem of both palace & hall
What ist but our health to the dearest on earth
To the flowers that in winter are blooming
The eden where joy is indebted for birth
The love & the beauty of woman
& the balm of our anguish & thrall
The welcome & wealth of the cottagers hearth
& the gem of both palace & hall
What ist but our health to the dearest on earth
To the flowers that in winter are blooming
The eden where joy is indebted for birth
The love & the beauty of woman
Then heres to the health of the dearest on earth
& the treasures of cottage & hall
Then heres to our very existance & birth
Life without them were nothing at all
Theyre the joy of our sorrow the rest of our pain
Theyre the flowers that in deserts are blooming
Then fill up the glass & we'll give it again
To the love & the beauty of woman
& the treasures of cottage & hall
Then heres to our very existance & birth
Life without them were nothing at all
Theyre the joy of our sorrow the rest of our pain
Theyre the flowers that in deserts are blooming
Then fill up the glass & we'll give it again
To the love & the beauty of woman
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |