The later poems of John Clare 1837-1864 ... General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
TO HIS WIFE
1
In my young days, I pluck't a rose;It grew upon a pleasant tree,—
No prickles on its stem arose,—
It never wounded me.
276
2
It grew upon a pleasant spot;On mountain heath so fair,
And pleasant was the little cot;
Near which it flourished there.
3
I knew it when a blooming bud,Nursed by the morning dew,
I knew the cottage where it stood,
And beautiful it grew.
4
Flowers on the hills had grown,The woods were all in tune,
The bud became full blown;
The sweetest rose of June.
5
I saw it every day,A hue that health will seek;
There's such a rose in May,
Comes on the maidens cheek.
6
I went again in spring;'Twas somewere near the may,
Birds had begun to sing,—
When I took the rose away.
7
I planted it with care,I watched it bloom from ill,
It scented all the air,
And blossoms sweeter still.
| The later poems of John Clare | |