 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
323
NUTTING
Right rosey gleamed the autumn morn
Right golden shone the autumn sun
The mowers swept the bleached corn
While long their early shades did run
The leaves were burnt to many hues
The hazel nuts were ripe & brown
My Marys kindness could but chuse
To pluck them when I bore them down
Right golden shone the autumn sun
The mowers swept the bleached corn
While long their early shades did run
The leaves were burnt to many hues
The hazel nuts were ripe & brown
My Marys kindness could but chuse
To pluck them when I bore them down
The shells her auburn hair did show
A zemblance faint yet beautiful
She smiled to hear me tell her so
Till I forgot the nuts to pull
I looked up on ash & thorn
For nuts—my wits was all astray
She laughed so rich that autumn morn
All all but love was wide away
A zemblance faint yet beautiful
She smiled to hear me tell her so
Till I forgot the nuts to pull
I looked up on ash & thorn
For nuts—my wits was all astray
She laughed so rich that autumn morn
All all but love was wide away
& soon the day was on its wane
Ere joy had thought one hour away
Who could but wish them back again
When love was so inclined to stay
She started at each little sound
The branches made—yet would her eye
Regret the gloom encroaching round
That told her night was in the sky
Ere joy had thought one hour away
Who could but wish them back again
When love was so inclined to stay
She started at each little sound
The branches made—yet would her eye
Regret the gloom encroaching round
That told her night was in the sky
I helped her through the hedge row gap
& thought the very thorns unkind
As not to part—while in her lap
She sought the ripest bunch to find
Then on a hill beneath a tree
We leamed her nuts—as lover spells
She often threw the nuts at me
& blushed to see me hurd the shell
& thought the very thorns unkind
As not to part—while in her lap
She sought the ripest bunch to find
Then on a hill beneath a tree
We leamed her nuts—as lover spells
She often threw the nuts at me
& blushed to see me hurd the shell
Love tokens for an after day
Passports a blushing kiss to claim
Soon went that autumn eve away
& never more its fellow came
The west was in a glorious trim
Of colours mixed in endless thrall
& on the dark woods distant rim
The sun hung like a golden ball
Passports a blushing kiss to claim
Soon went that autumn eve away
& never more its fellow came
The west was in a glorious trim
Of colours mixed in endless thrall
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The sun hung like a golden ball
Right luscious was those nutting bowers
Impulses sweet for many a day
Joy never smiled on sweeter hours
Or sighed oer sweeter passed away
Twas Marys smiles & sweet replies
That gave the sky so sweet a stain
So bright I never saw him rise
Nor ever set so sweet again
Impulses sweet for many a day
Joy never smiled on sweeter hours
Or sighed oer sweeter passed away
Twas Marys smiles & sweet replies
That gave the sky so sweet a stain
So bright I never saw him rise
Nor ever set so sweet again
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |