 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
376
SUMMER BALLAD
Poesy now in summer stoops
Full fifty times a day
The green turns gold with buttercups
The hedges white with may
The ballad singing larks now troop
By dozens from the hay
& dozens down as soon as up
Leaves one the time to play
Full fifty times a day
The green turns gold with buttercups
The hedges white with may
The ballad singing larks now troop
By dozens from the hay
& dozens down as soon as up
Leaves one the time to play
But sweeter ballads fill the vale
When maidens meet the morn
& the red cow stands oer the pail
Beneath the squatty thorn
Where sheep come up & rub their heads
& cows lie down to chew
Their cuds beneath the battered shade
When grass is wet with dew
When maidens meet the morn
& the red cow stands oer the pail
Beneath the squatty thorn
Where sheep come up & rub their heads
& cows lie down to chew
Their cuds beneath the battered shade
When grass is wet with dew
The magpies nest is on the top
She cannot sing—but shows
Mays hurry while the maiden stops
& chatters till she goes
The mays field ballads much would need
If song was all its lot
& all its bustle rude indeed
If beauty owned it not
She cannot sing—but shows
Mays hurry while the maiden stops
& chatters till she goes
The mays field ballads much would need
If song was all its lot
& all its bustle rude indeed
If beauty owned it not
Morn sprinkles treasures in her way
Green health in every place
& I thought verses half the day
To pass so sweet a face
Dress sets not off her face so well
As it sets off her dress
Love easy knows where beauty dwells
If fancy bids it guess
Green health in every place
& I thought verses half the day
To pass so sweet a face
Dress sets not off her face so well
As it sets off her dress
Love easy knows where beauty dwells
If fancy bids it guess
She might have sweethearts half a score
& that in half a year
But she has one & wants no more
& blushes when he's near
From idle words she turns away
& frowns will fools reprove
But kindness she with kindness pays
Till almost ta'en for love
& that in half a year
But she has one & wants no more
& blushes when he's near
From idle words she turns away
& frowns will fools reprove
377
Till almost ta'en for love
No broaches on her breast she wears
Pind down with golden pins
She gives herself no foolish airs
Nor feels the praise she wins
Though fancy many a flounce prefers
When may day comes about
Pride has but small to do with her
Thats rich enough without
Pind down with golden pins
She gives herself no foolish airs
Nor feels the praise she wins
Though fancy many a flounce prefers
When may day comes about
Pride has but small to do with her
Thats rich enough without
She loves on sunday noons to go
Among the birds in may
Where buntings “pink” “pink” [“]pink” as though
They followed all the way
She dances round & skips the stile
Rich in her sunday dress
& meets from every face a smile
The type of happiness
Among the birds in may
Where buntings “pink” “pink” [“]pink” as though
They followed all the way
She dances round & skips the stile
Rich in her sunday dress
& meets from every face a smile
The type of happiness
& so delightful grows the walk
With loves familiar ear
Joy almost may in ballads talk
When beauty listens near
& soon as she has past the farm
& eyes are out of sight
She takes the waiting shepherds arm
& dallys with delight
With loves familiar ear
Joy almost may in ballads talk
When beauty listens near
& soon as she has past the farm
& eyes are out of sight
She takes the waiting shepherds arm
& dallys with delight
She loves to spend an hour or so
With neighbours & to see
How pinks & cloves & lilys grow
Which goody shows so free
Beds edged with daisys red & white
& thrift & london pride
Appears to her so fine a sight
That nowhere owns beside
With neighbours & to see
How pinks & cloves & lilys grow
Which goody shows so free
Beds edged with daisys red & white
& thrift & london pride
Appears to her so fine a sight
That nowhere owns beside
Few are the flowers her taste prefers
Yet looking up & down
She nips a leaf of lavender
To put within her gown
She loves a flower her gown to grace
But asks not—& recieves
A nosegay sweet—for beautys face
In welcomes favour lives
Yet looking up & down
She nips a leaf of lavender
To put within her gown
She loves a flower her gown to grace
378
A nosegay sweet—for beautys face
In welcomes favour lives
The young their silent gifts bestow
That somthing more would tell
& old folks happy are to show
They ever wish it well
She loves the garden bench at eve
& takes her sewing there
& gets by heart the last new song
A present from the fair
That somthing more would tell
& old folks happy are to show
They ever wish it well
She loves the garden bench at eve
& takes her sewing there
& gets by heart the last new song
A present from the fair
She has a love for many things
But will not own to one
& he who sees her home at spring
Is kept a secret on
She loves the oak upon the green
In may with apples hung
For there she sits & sings unseen
The songs her mother sung
But will not own to one
& he who sees her home at spring
Is kept a secret on
She loves the oak upon the green
In may with apples hung
For there she sits & sings unseen
The songs her mother sung
She loves the thrush that comes to sing
Upon the hedgerow bough
& curly coated lambs of spring
That race up to the cow
The shepherd dog in shaggy suit
In e'er such haste will stand
& though the old yoe stamps her foot
Awaits the patting hand
Upon the hedgerow bough
& curly coated lambs of spring
That race up to the cow
The shepherd dog in shaggy suit
In e'er such haste will stand
& though the old yoe stamps her foot
Awaits the patting hand
The wouldbe sweetheart often drops
Love welcomes in her way
& she her ballad only stops
To pass the time of day
While some would compliment her health
& win esteem unseen
Beauty unconscious of its wealth
Knows not the maid they mean
Love welcomes in her way
& she her ballad only stops
To pass the time of day
While some would compliment her health
& win esteem unseen
Beauty unconscious of its wealth
Knows not the maid they mean
She loves the green that herds the cow
& gives her labour joy
Where she plays crookhorn even now
As wild as any boy
The sweetest blessings life provides
Her village peace bestows
Though some few towns where kin resides
Is all the world she knows
& gives her labour joy
Where she plays crookhorn even now
As wild as any boy
379
Her village peace bestows
Though some few towns where kin resides
Is all the world she knows
& I could go when morning pays
Green welcome to her song
& I could stay when evening stays
Nor think her longest long
& lie upon the grass & think
& in the rushes make
With her sweet looks for pen & ink
Green ballads for her sake
Green welcome to her song
& I could stay when evening stays
Nor think her longest long
& lie upon the grass & think
& in the rushes make
With her sweet looks for pen & ink
Green ballads for her sake
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |