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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ADDRESS TO AN INSIGNIFICANT FLOWER OBSCURELY BLOOMING IN A LONELY WILD |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
ADDRESS TO AN INSIGNIFICANT FLOWER OBSCURELY BLOOMING IN A LONELY WILD
And tho thou seemst a weedling wild
Wild & neglected like to me
Thou still art dear to natures child
& I will stoop to notice thee
Wild & neglected like to me
Thou still art dear to natures child
& I will stoop to notice thee
217
For oft like thee, in wild retreat
Aray'd in humble garb like thee
Theres many a seeming weed proves sweet
As sweet as garden flowers can be
Aray'd in humble garb like thee
Theres many a seeming weed proves sweet
As sweet as garden flowers can be
& like to thee, each seeming weed
Flowers unregarded like to thee
Without improvement—runs to seed
Wild & neglected like to me
Flowers unregarded like to thee
Without improvement—runs to seed
Wild & neglected like to me
Like unto thee, so mean & low
Nothing boasting like to thee
No flattering dresses tempting show
Can tempt a friend to notice me
Nothing boasting like to thee
No flattering dresses tempting show
Can tempt a friend to notice me
& like to thee, when beautys cloath'd
In lowly raiment like to thee
Disdaining pride (by beauty loath'd)
No beauties there can never see
In lowly raiment like to thee
Disdaining pride (by beauty loath'd)
No beauties there can never see
For like to thee, my Emma blows
Flowers like to thee I dearly prize
& like to thee, her humble cloaths
Hides every charm from prouder eyes
Flowers like to thee I dearly prize
& like to thee, her humble cloaths
Hides every charm from prouder eyes
218
Altho like thee, a lowly flower
If fancied by a polish'd eye
It soon would bloom beyond my power
The finest flower beneath the sky
If fancied by a polish'd eye
It soon would bloom beyond my power
The finest flower beneath the sky
& like to thee, lives many a swain
With Genius blest—but like to thee
So humble, lowly, mean & plain
No one will notice them nor—me
With Genius blest—but like to thee
So humble, lowly, mean & plain
No one will notice them nor—me
So like to thee, they live unknown
Wild weeds obscure—& like to thee
Their sweets are sweet to them alone
—The only pleasure known to me
Wild weeds obscure—& like to thee
Their sweets are sweet to them alone
—The only pleasure known to me
Yet when I'm dead lets hope I have
Some friend in store as I'm to thee
That will find out my lowly grave
& heave a sight to notice me
Some friend in store as I'm to thee
That will find out my lowly grave
& heave a sight to notice me
| The early poems of John Clare | |