 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
THE SECRET
I loved thee, though I told thee not,
Right earlily and long,
Thou wert my joy in every spot,
My theme in every song.
Right earlily and long,
Thou wert my joy in every spot,
My theme in every song.
And when I saw a stranger face
Where beauty held the claim,
I gave it like a secret grace
The being of thy name.
Where beauty held the claim,
I gave it like a secret grace
The being of thy name.
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And all the charms of face or voice
Which I in others see
Are but the recollected choice
Of what I felt for thee.
Which I in others see
Are but the recollected choice
Of what I felt for thee.
| The Poems of John Clare | |