 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
THE SHEPHERD BOY
Pleased in his lonliness he often liesTelling glad stories to his dog—& een
His very shadow that the loss supplies
Of living company. Full oft he'll lean
By pebbled brooks & dream with happy eyes
Upon the fairey pictures spread below
Thinking the shadowed prospect real skies
& happy heavens where his kindred go
Oft we may track his haunts where he hath been
To spend the leisure which his toils bestow
By ‘nine peg morris’ nicked upon the green
Or flower stuck gardens never meant to grow
Or figures cut on trees his skill to show
Where he a prisoner from a shower hath been
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |