The early poems of John Clare 1804-1822: General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
THE CRAFTY MAID
What dangerful rascals the fellows all are
Like wolves ever prowling for prey
And many poor maidens are catchd in the snare
But I'll be as crafty as they
For if ever to peggy they dare to come near
And run oer their impudence so
I'll soon send 'em off with a flea in their ear
And ne'er let em ruin me so
Like wolves ever prowling for prey
And many poor maidens are catchd in the snare
But I'll be as crafty as they
For if ever to peggy they dare to come near
And run oer their impudence so
I'll soon send 'em off with a flea in their ear
And ne'er let em ruin me so
Young ra[l]ph 'tother day as we sat by the brook
A poor nasty rogue if he could
By pretending he wanted a shaft for his crook
Would have weagl'd me into the wood
But says I ‘Go along wi' y'r lyes y’ proud elf
Or if ye want shafts pr'ythee go
Away 'bout y'r busn'ess and get 'em y'rself
And near think to ruin me so
A poor nasty rogue if he could
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Would have weagl'd me into the wood
But says I ‘Go along wi' y'r lyes y’ proud elf
Or if ye want shafts pr'ythee go
Away 'bout y'r busn'ess and get 'em y'rself
And near think to ruin me so
And last night too Jocky as bad as the rest
Came smileing up ‘How d' ye do’
But guessing his meaning as sharp as the best
I answer'd ‘No better for you’
For he knowing master and mistres was safe
Thought I with [him] sawning would go
But I bid him ‘Off’ as I did nasty ra[l]ph
And ne'er hope to ruin me so
Came smileing up ‘How d' ye do’
But guessing his meaning as sharp as the best
I answer'd ‘No better for you’
For he knowing master and mistres was safe
Thought I with [him] sawning would go
But I bid him ‘Off’ as I did nasty ra[l]ph
And ne'er hope to ruin me so
And so I'll serve all—be as fine as they please
Unless they keep fairley in bounds
Which I can soon tell, Aye wi' just as much ease
As I can a crack't pot by the sound[s]
But there's many maids not so crafty as I
Who hears it and yet does'n't know
To these they will daily whine wimper and sigh
But Laugh when they've ruin'd 'em so
Unless they keep fairley in bounds
Which I can soon tell, Aye wi' just as much ease
As I can a crack't pot by the sound[s]
But there's many maids not so crafty as I
Who hears it and yet does'n't know
To these they will daily whine wimper and sigh
But Laugh when they've ruin'd 'em so
| The early poems of John Clare | |