 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
‘STILL UNCHANGEABLE’
Love can melt the stony-hearted,
Love's a tie that can't be parted,
Though so often crossed and thwarted.
Love's a tie that can't be parted,
Though so often crossed and thwarted.
Love from coldest hopes can borrow
Joys that shall be bright to-morrow,
Though it often meets with sorrow.
Joys that shall be bright to-morrow,
Though it often meets with sorrow.
Love in every limb is blooming
In that witching angel woman,
Though age's storm is slowly coming.
In that witching angel woman,
Though age's storm is slowly coming.
Joy, tripping light as any feather,
Leads on in love's divinest weather,
And one seat holds them all together.
Leads on in love's divinest weather,
And one seat holds them all together.
Cheek to cheek is pressed so tender,
Love should from all ills defend her
In every walk, and never wander.
Love should from all ills defend her
In every walk, and never wander.
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But how many have their meetings,
Smiling lips and happy greetings,
Tender looks and bosom-beatings,
Smiling lips and happy greetings,
Tender looks and bosom-beatings,
That shall part! and time, concealing,
Tries to conquer every feeling:
But memory will her sighs be stealing.
Tries to conquer every feeling:
But memory will her sighs be stealing.
There are faces thought the dearest,
There are hearts once linked the nearest,
That oft meet with lot severest:
There are hearts once linked the nearest,
That oft meet with lot severest:
That met in love's divinest weather
And ere their choice could part would rather
Die—and yet not come together!
And ere their choice could part would rather
Die—and yet not come together!
'Tis more than love for this and t'other,
Dearer than sister feels for brother,
And earth but seldom owns another.
Dearer than sister feels for brother,
And earth but seldom owns another.
And though the mind is crossed and thwarted
And love's first thraldom cut and parted,
It seems the dearest where it started.
And love's first thraldom cut and parted,
It seems the dearest where it started.
| The Poems of John Clare | |