 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
THE HEAT OF NOON
There lies a sultry lusciousness aroundThe far stretched pomp of summer which the eye
Views with a dazzled gaze—& gladly bounds
Its prospects to some pastoral spots that lie
Nestling among the hedge confining grounds
Where in some nook the haystacks newly made
Scents the smooth level meadow land around
While underneath the woodlands hazley hedge
The crowding oxen make their swaily beds
& in the dry dyke thronged with rush & sedge
The restless sheep rush in to hide their heads
From the unlost & ever haunting flie
& under every trees projecting shade
Places as battered as the road is made
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |