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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JEANNETTE |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
JEANNETTE
Near a grove of tall trees stretching far oer the pool
Whose broad shadows darken the stream as it flows
Where in summer the breeze from the waters so cool
Refreshes the flocks with a welcome repose
There nurs'd in a humble thatch'd cot that stands nigh
A sweet lovely blossom blooms lowly unseen
& call'd by the shepherds that wander hard bye
The lovley Jeannette the pride of the green
Whose broad shadows darken the stream as it flows
Where in summer the breeze from the waters so cool
Refreshes the flocks with a welcome repose
There nurs'd in a humble thatch'd cot that stands nigh
A sweet lovely blossom blooms lowly unseen
& call'd by the shepherds that wander hard bye
The lovley Jeannette the pride of the green
Cherish'd in solitude humble & warm
To the world & its vices unseen & unknown
No pride the sweet charms of the Angel deform
Adornd by the hand of sweet nature alone
O charms so enchanting so winning to prove
Had I but ne'er seen her how happy I'd been
E'en ages chill blood would flow warm into love
At the sight of Jeanette the pride of the green
To the world & its vices unseen & unknown
No pride the sweet charms of the Angel deform
Adornd by the hand of sweet nature alone
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Had I but ne'er seen her how happy I'd been
E'en ages chill blood would flow warm into love
At the sight of Jeanette the pride of the green
Nature lavish of charms steals the blush from the rose
& to give that cheek softness health rivals the morn
Despoil'd of its beauty the lorn lilly blows
Her lovley sweet bosom & neck to adorn
—O a curse on such villians so base to perswade
With hearts void of feeling so harden'd & mean
As to injure such beauties their lustre to fade
& hurt sweet Jeanette the pride of the Green
& to give that cheek softness health rivals the morn
Despoil'd of its beauty the lorn lilly blows
Her lovley sweet bosom & neck to adorn
—O a curse on such villians so base to perswade
With hearts void of feeling so harden'd & mean
As to injure such beauties their lustre to fade
& hurt sweet Jeanette the pride of the Green
As list'ning the black bird I saunter'd along
Supris'd at such beauties ne'er witness'd before
She pass'd me—adieu—to the unfinish'd song
The music had power for to please me no more
—The coy glance turn'd from me—the blushes—alone
On the bewitching cheek of Virginity seen
Made my heart from that moment—(no longer my own)
A Slave to Jeannette the pride of the green
Supris'd at such beauties ne'er witness'd before
She pass'd me—adieu—to the unfinish'd song
The music had power for to please me no more
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On the bewitching cheek of Virginity seen
Made my heart from that moment—(no longer my own)
A Slave to Jeannette the pride of the green
So winning, so moving, who could but help loving?
So artless her manners so modest & shy
Simplicitys sweetness her charms still Improving
& Innoscence bright'ning the blue of her eye
I've seen her,—I languish—O great is my anguish
—Ye chill pains that haunt me—O what can ye mean?
I've seen her—I sigh for—& seeing—must dye for
That angel Jeanette—the pride of the green
So artless her manners so modest & shy
Simplicitys sweetness her charms still Improving
& Innoscence bright'ning the blue of her eye
I've seen her,—I languish—O great is my anguish
—Ye chill pains that haunt me—O what can ye mean?
I've seen her—I sigh for—& seeing—must dye for
That angel Jeanette—the pride of the green
| The early poems of John Clare | |