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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HER I LOVE
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
HER I LOVE
—A SONG
Rose in full Blown blushes dy'd
Pink maturely spread
Carnations boasting all their pride
Of melting white and red
Are Charms confes'd by every eye
But ah how faint they prove
To paint superior charms—when nigh
The Cheek of her I love
Pink maturely spread
Carnations boasting all their pride
Of melting white and red
Are Charms confes'd by every eye
But ah how faint they prove
To paint superior charms—when nigh
The Cheek of her I love
308
Ripe Cherrie on its parent Tree
With full perfection grac'd
Red corral in its native sea
To all advantage plac'd
What charms they boast the eye to please
And Beauty to improve
But ah alls lost when match'd with these
The Lips of her I love
With full perfection grac'd
Red corral in its native sea
To all advantage plac'd
What charms they boast the eye to please
And Beauty to improve
But ah alls lost when match'd with these
The Lips of her I love
When Pulpy Plums to ripness swells
In down surrounding blue
When dews besprent on Heather Bells
Reflecting brighter hue
The Azure Skie when stars appear
Its Bluness to improve
Fades into dullest shades when near
The Eyes of her I love
In down surrounding blue
When dews besprent on Heather Bells
Reflecting brighter hue
The Azure Skie when stars appear
Its Bluness to improve
Fades into dullest shades when near
The Eyes of her I love
Sweet is the blossom'd beans perfume
By morning breezes shed
And sweeter still the Jonquils bloom
When Evening moists its head
The Perfume sweet of pink and Rose
And Vi'let of the Grove
But ah how sweeter far then those
The kiss of her I love
By morning breezes shed
And sweeter still the Jonquils bloom
When Evening moists its head
The Perfume sweet of pink and Rose
And Vi'let of the Grove
But ah how sweeter far then those
The kiss of her I love
309
How joy'd the Bard—when muse inclin'd
Sublimely treads the sky
How blest Ive been wi' fob well lin'd
And frothing tankard nigh
But was such pleasures hourly mine
As charming as they prove
All gladly now would I resign
To be with her I love
Sublimely treads the sky
How blest Ive been wi' fob well lin'd
And frothing tankard nigh
But was such pleasures hourly mine
As charming as they prove
All gladly now would I resign
To be with her I love
| The early poems of John Clare | |