The Poems of John Clare | ||
SONG'S ETERNITY
What is song's eternity?
Come and see.
Can it noise and bustle be?
Come and see.
Praises sung or praises said
Can it be?
Wait awhile and these are dead—
Sigh, sigh;
Be they high or lowly bred
They die.
Come and see.
Can it noise and bustle be?
Come and see.
Praises sung or praises said
Can it be?
Wait awhile and these are dead—
Sigh, sigh;
Be they high or lowly bred
They die.
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What is song's eternity?
Come and see.
Melodies of earth and sky,
Here they be.
Song once sung to Adam's ears
Can it be?
Ballads of six thousand years
Thrive, thrive;
Songs awakened with the spheres
Alive.
Come and see.
Melodies of earth and sky,
Here they be.
Song once sung to Adam's ears
Can it be?
Ballads of six thousand years
Thrive, thrive;
Songs awakened with the spheres
Alive.
Mighty songs that miss decay,
What are they?
Crowds and cities pass away
Like a day.
Books are writ and books are read;
What are they?
Years will lay them with the dead—
Sigh, sigh;
Trifles unto nothing wed,
They die.
What are they?
Crowds and cities pass away
Like a day.
Books are writ and books are read;
What are they?
Years will lay them with the dead—
Sigh, sigh;
Trifles unto nothing wed,
They die.
Dreamers, list the honey-bee;
Mark the tree
Where the bluecap, ‘tootle tee,’
Sings a glee
Sung to Adam and to Eve—
Here they be.
When floods covered every bough,
Noah's ark
Heard that ballad singing now;
Hark, hark,
Mark the tree
Where the bluecap, ‘tootle tee,’
Sings a glee
Sung to Adam and to Eve—
Here they be.
When floods covered every bough,
Noah's ark
Heard that ballad singing now;
Hark, hark,
‘Tootle tootle tootle tee’—
Can it be
Pride and fame must shadows be?
Come and see—
Every season owns her own;
Bird and bee
Sing creation's music on;
Nature's glee
Is in every mood and tone
Eternity.
Can it be
Pride and fame must shadows be?
Come and see—
Every season owns her own;
Bird and bee
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Nature's glee
Is in every mood and tone
Eternity.
The eternity of song
Liveth here;
Nature's universal tongue
Singeth here
Songs I've heard and felt and seen
Everywhere;
Songs like the grass are evergreen:
The giver
Said ‘Live and be’—and they have been,
For ever.
Liveth here;
Nature's universal tongue
Singeth here
Songs I've heard and felt and seen
Everywhere;
Songs like the grass are evergreen:
The giver
Said ‘Live and be’—and they have been,
For ever.
The Poems of John Clare | ||