John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | ||
THE DINNER IN THE FIELDS
How pleasant when athirst in burning daysTo kneel adown where clear the fountain strays
Over its bed of pebbles—oer the brink
& just where bubbles blubber up to drink
How cooling by the parched lips it runs
While some thick willow shadows out the sun
& how delicious is the taste—een wine
Can[t] relish better where the wealthy dine
Then sweet spring water to the thirsty swain
Who sits & eats his dinner on the plain
& visits with a relish dear to toil
The shaded spring where clear the waters boil
An ancient luxury where the humble dwell
Which Jacob craved from rachel at the well
John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | ||