 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
399
THE MARCH NIGHTINGALE
Now sallow catkins once all downy whiteTurn like the sunshine into golden light
The rocking clown leans oer the spinny rail
In admiration at the sunny sight
The while the Blackcap doth his ears assail
With such a rich & such an early song
He stops his own & thinks the nightingale
Hath of her monthly reckoning counted wrong
“Sweet jug jug jug” comes loud upon his ear
Those sounds that unto may by right belong
Yet on the awthorn scarce a leaf appears
How can it be—spell struck the wondering boy
Listens again—again the sound he hears
& mocks it in his song for very joy
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |