 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
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REMEMBRANCES
Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one
& the cloudy days of autumn & of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart & eye & for ever far away
Dear heart & can it be that such raptures meet decay
I thought them all eternal when by Langley bush I lay
I thought them joys eternal when I used to shout & play
On its bank at “clink & bandy” “chock” & “taw” & ducking stone
Where silence sitteth now on the wild heath as her own
Like a ruin of the past all alone
& the cloudy days of autumn & of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart & eye & for ever far away
Dear heart & can it be that such raptures meet decay
I thought them all eternal when by Langley bush I lay
I thought them joys eternal when I used to shout & play
On its bank at “clink & bandy” “chock” & “taw” & ducking stone
Where silence sitteth now on the wild heath as her own
Like a ruin of the past all alone
When I used to lie & sing by old eastwells boiling spring
When I used to tie the willow boughs together for a “swing”
& fish with crooked pins & thread & never catch a thing
With heart just like a feather—now as heavy as a stone
When beneath old lea close oak I the bottom branches broke
To make our harvest cart like so many working folk
& then to cut a straw at the brook to have a soak
O I never dreamed of parting or that trouble had a sting
Or that pleasures like a flock of birds would ever take to wing
Leaving nothing but a little naked spring
When I used to tie the willow boughs together for a “swing”
& fish with crooked pins & thread & never catch a thing
With heart just like a feather—now as heavy as a stone
When beneath old lea close oak I the bottom branches broke
To make our harvest cart like so many working folk
& then to cut a straw at the brook to have a soak
O I never dreamed of parting or that trouble had a sting
Or that pleasures like a flock of birds would ever take to wing
Leaving nothing but a little naked spring
When jumping time away on old crossberry way
& eating awes like sugar plumbs ere they had lost the may
& skipping like a leveret before the peep of day
On the rolly polly up & downs of pleasant swordy well
When in round oaks narrow lane as the south got black again
We sought the hollow ash that was shelter from the rain
With our pockets full of peas we had stolen from the grain
How delicious was the dinner time on such a showry day
O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away
The ancient pulpit trees & the play
& eating awes like sugar plumbs ere they had lost the may
& skipping like a leveret before the peep of day
On the rolly polly up & downs of pleasant swordy well
When in round oaks narrow lane as the south got black again
We sought the hollow ash that was shelter from the rain
With our pockets full of peas we had stolen from the grain
How delicious was the dinner time on such a showry day
O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away
The ancient pulpit trees & the play
When for school oer “little field” with its brook & wooden brig
Where I swaggered like a man though I was not half so big
While I held my little plough though twas but a willow twig
& drove my team along made of nothing but a name
“Gee hep” & “hoit” & “woi”—O I never call to mind
These pleasant names of places but I leave a sigh behind
When I see the little mouldywharps hang sweeing to the wind
On the only aged willow that in all the field remains
& nature hides her face where theyre sweeing in their chains
& in a silent murmuring complains
Where I swaggered like a man though I was not half so big
While I held my little plough though twas but a willow twig
& drove my team along made of nothing but a name
“Gee hep” & “hoit” & “woi”—O I never call to mind
These pleasant names of places but I leave a sigh behind
When I see the little mouldywharps hang sweeing to the wind
On the only aged willow that in all the field remains
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& in a silent murmuring complains
Here was commons for their hills where they seek for freedom still
Though every commons gone & though traps are set to kill
The little homeless miners—O it turns my bosom chill
When I think of old “sneap green” puddocks nook & hilly snow
Where bramble bushes grew & the daisy gemmed in dew
& the hills of silken grass like to cushions to the view
Where we threw the pissmire crumbs when we'd nothing else to do
All leveled like a desert by the never weary plough
All vanished like the sun where that cloud is passing now
& settled here for ever on its brow
Though every commons gone & though traps are set to kill
The little homeless miners—O it turns my bosom chill
When I think of old “sneap green” puddocks nook & hilly snow
Where bramble bushes grew & the daisy gemmed in dew
& the hills of silken grass like to cushions to the view
Where we threw the pissmire crumbs when we'd nothing else to do
All leveled like a desert by the never weary plough
All vanished like the sun where that cloud is passing now
& settled here for ever on its brow
O I never thought that joys would run away from boys
Or that boys would change their minds & forsake such summer joys
But alack I never dreamed that the world had other toys
To petrify first feelings like the fable into stone
Till I found the pleasure past & a winter come at last
Then the fields were sudden bare & the sky got overcast
& boyhoods pleasing haunts like a blossom in the blast
Was shrivelled to a withered weed & trampled down & done
Till vanished was the morning spring & set that summer sun
& winter fought her battle strife & won
Or that boys would change their minds & forsake such summer joys
But alack I never dreamed that the world had other toys
To petrify first feelings like the fable into stone
Till I found the pleasure past & a winter come at last
Then the fields were sudden bare & the sky got overcast
& boyhoods pleasing haunts like a blossom in the blast
Was shrivelled to a withered weed & trampled down & done
Till vanished was the morning spring & set that summer sun
& winter fought her battle strife & won
By Langley bush I roam but the bush hath left its hill
On cowper green I stray tis a desert strange & chill
& spreading lea close oak ere decay had penned its will
To the axe of the spoiler & self interest fell a prey
& crossberry way & old round oaks narrow lane
With its hollow trees like pulpits I shall never see again
Inclosure like a Buonaparte let not a thing remain
It levelled every bush & tree & levelled every hill
& hung the moles for traitors—though the brook is running still
It runs a nake[d] brook cold & chill
On cowper green I stray tis a desert strange & chill
& spreading lea close oak ere decay had penned its will
To the axe of the spoiler & self interest fell a prey
& crossberry way & old round oaks narrow lane
With its hollow trees like pulpits I shall never see again
Inclosure like a Buonaparte let not a thing remain
It levelled every bush & tree & levelled every hill
& hung the moles for traitors—though the brook is running still
It runs a nake[d] brook cold & chill
O had I known as then joy had left the paths of men
I had watched her night & day be sure & never slept agen
& when she turned to [go] O I'd caught her mantle then
& wooed her like a lover by my lonely side to stay
Aye knelt & worshiped on as love in beautys bower
& clung upon her smiles as a bee upon a flower
& gave her heart my poesys all cropt in a sunny hour
As keepsakes & pledges all to never fade away
But love never heeded to treasure up the may
So it went the common road with decay
I had watched her night & day be sure & never slept agen
& when she turned to [go] O I'd caught her mantle then
& wooed her like a lover by my lonely side to stay
Aye knelt & worshiped on as love in beautys bower
& clung upon her smiles as a bee upon a flower
& gave her heart my poesys all cropt in a sunny hour
As keepsakes & pledges all to never fade away
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So it went the common road with decay
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |