The Poems of John Clare Edited with an Introduction by J. W. Tibble |
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O SILLY LOVE! O CUNNING LOVE! |
 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
O SILLY LOVE! O CUNNING LOVE!
O silly love! O cunning love!
An old maid to trepan:
I cannot go about my work
For loving of a man.
I cannot bake, I cannot brew,
And, do the best I can,
I burn the bread and chill the mash,
Through loving of a man.
An old maid to trepan:
I cannot go about my work
For loving of a man.
I cannot bake, I cannot brew,
And, do the best I can,
I burn the bread and chill the mash,
Through loving of a man.
Shrove Tuesday last I tried and tried
To turn the cakes in pan,
And dropt the batter on the floor,
Through thinking of a man.
My mistress screamed, my master swore,
Boys cursed me in a troop;
The cat was all the friends I had,
Who helped to clean it up.
To turn the cakes in pan,
And dropt the batter on the floor,
Through thinking of a man.
My mistress screamed, my master swore,
Boys cursed me in a troop;
The cat was all the friends I had,
Who helped to clean it up.
Last Christmas Eve, from off the spit
I took the goose to table,
Or should have done, but teasing love
Did make me quite unable;
And down slipt dish, and goose, and all,
With din and clitter-clatter;
All but the dog fell foul on me;
He licked the broken platter.
I took the goose to table,
Or should have done, but teasing love
Did make me quite unable;
And down slipt dish, and goose, and all,
With din and clitter-clatter;
All but the dog fell foul on me;
He licked the broken platter.
Although I'm ten years past a score,
Too long to play the fool,
My mistress says I must turn o'er
My service for a school.
Good feth! what must I do, and do,
To keep my service still?
I'll give the winds my thoughts to lose,
Indeed and so I will.
Too long to play the fool,
156
My service for a school.
Good feth! what must I do, and do,
To keep my service still?
I'll give the winds my thoughts to lose,
Indeed and so I will.
And if the wind my love should lose,
Right foolish were the play,
For I should mourn what I had lost,
And love another day.
With crosses and with losses
Right double were the ill,
So I'll e'en bear with love and all,
Alack, and so I will.
Right foolish were the play,
For I should mourn what I had lost,
And love another day.
With crosses and with losses
Right double were the ill,
So I'll e'en bear with love and all,
Alack, and so I will.
| The Poems of John Clare | |