 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
THE PARTRIDGE
One day across the fields I chanced to pass.Where chickens chelped and scuttled in the grass;
And as I looked about to find the seat,
A wounded partridge dropped agen my feet.
341
The chickens chelped and fluttered all away.
I stooped to pick her up, when up she drew
Her wounded wing and cackled as she flew.
I wondered much to hear the chickens lie
As still as nothing as I wandered by;
And soon she came agen with much ado
And swept the grass and called them as she flew;
But still they kept their seat and left no trace
And old cows snorted when they passed the place.
| The Poems of John Clare | |