The early poems of John Clare 1804-1822: General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
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THE AUTHORS ADDRESS TO HIS BOOK |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
THE AUTHORS ADDRESS TO HIS BOOK
Now little book the time is come
That thou must leave thy dad & home
To seek for friends—(the L---d knows wither)
The very thoughts o't makes me dither
But thou art young the world is wide
& tho for travel ill supply'd
I'll gie thee what shall do thee good
(As every loving parent shou'd)
Some good advice before ye go
The utmost kindness I can show
Full well thou knows't my little book
What pains in rearing thee I took
To bring thee up as I ha' brought thee
To teach thee things as I ha' taught thee
What moping days—nay weeks—I've led
Wi' nought but empty wishes fed
What sleepless nights been doom'd to see
To study & contrive for thee
Then whilst thou hears thy fathers blessing
—Some kindness for the past expressing
Wi' strict attention listen to't
& what I say observe & do't
For from my rules thou'lt plainly know
How to distinguish friend from foe—
Without this caution mind my book
Thou ne'er need's for Preferment look
The world's a dangerous Ocean found
Where daring dangers threaten round
& if thou takes the head long tide
With out some Reason for thy guide
The perils of a 'whelming sea
Is safe enough to ruin thee
On some foul Rock or craggy shore
Thy Bark will sink to rise no more—
Then mind—pursue the safest plan
And be as wary as you can
Mark first—for Friendship never go
Mong (like thy self) the mean & low
But pass thou by the peasants door
Who's quite as ign'rant as their poor
A sensless laugh & silly stare
With humming here & hahing there—
‘Why's!—now't b't nonscense now its cem’
Thats all that thou mayst hope from them
For what can thou expect to find
Where Ignorance continues blind—
The ploughboy when behind his heels
The restless hogs tormenting squeals
Near seems supris'd about their bother
They're hogs & he expects no other
Such silly dunces pass 'em by
& ne'er so much as turn thy eye
That thou must leave thy dad & home
To seek for friends—(the L---d knows wither)
The very thoughts o't makes me dither
425
& tho for travel ill supply'd
I'll gie thee what shall do thee good
(As every loving parent shou'd)
Some good advice before ye go
The utmost kindness I can show
Full well thou knows't my little book
What pains in rearing thee I took
To bring thee up as I ha' brought thee
To teach thee things as I ha' taught thee
What moping days—nay weeks—I've led
Wi' nought but empty wishes fed
What sleepless nights been doom'd to see
To study & contrive for thee
Then whilst thou hears thy fathers blessing
—Some kindness for the past expressing
Wi' strict attention listen to't
& what I say observe & do't
For from my rules thou'lt plainly know
How to distinguish friend from foe—
Without this caution mind my book
Thou ne'er need's for Preferment look
The world's a dangerous Ocean found
Where daring dangers threaten round
& if thou takes the head long tide
With out some Reason for thy guide
The perils of a 'whelming sea
Is safe enough to ruin thee
On some foul Rock or craggy shore
Thy Bark will sink to rise no more—
426
And be as wary as you can
Mark first—for Friendship never go
Mong (like thy self) the mean & low
But pass thou by the peasants door
Who's quite as ign'rant as their poor
A sensless laugh & silly stare
With humming here & hahing there—
‘Why's!—now't b't nonscense now its cem’
Thats all that thou mayst hope from them
For what can thou expect to find
Where Ignorance continues blind—
The ploughboy when behind his heels
The restless hogs tormenting squeals
Near seems supris'd about their bother
They're hogs & he expects no other
Such silly dunces pass 'em by
& ne'er so much as turn thy eye
& mind thee Bookey what I say
There's others quite as bad as they
That boast their learning & their knowledge
As tho' they'd ta'en degrees from Colledge
Despisers of Establish'd laws
The Churches old protestant cause
(Where Eloquence & learning preaches
Where Wisdom Sense & reason teaches)
Those mushrooms plentiously abound
To day from dung hills starting found
To morrow in a pulpit drest
A Learned lecturer shines confest
Where Ignorance around him stands
Groaning applause wi' lifted hands
Admiring with astonish'd wonder
Each thoughtless pause—& helpless blunder
‘And sure’ they cry ‘the mans uncommon
‘He never cou'd be born o' woman
‘He either comes or has from heaven
‘The Gift to give us what he's given!’
So Ignorance & conseit will swell 'em
For they'll know more then thou canst tell 'em
Besides the dress that thou art in
It rather smells too much o' sin
Their sacred touch it wou'd defile
Nor would they think it worth their while
Poor outcast ere to notice thee
Thourt none o' their comunity
‘Blind as a beetle’ they wou'd call thee
& safe as death to over haul thee
Say every page wants rerevising
& every ballad spir'tualizing
Call thee old Nickeys choise observant
& stile thy dad his humble servant
Then mind my book—I wish well to thee
I tell thou shun 'em—see & do thee
There's others quite as bad as they
That boast their learning & their knowledge
As tho' they'd ta'en degrees from Colledge
Despisers of Establish'd laws
The Churches old protestant cause
(Where Eloquence & learning preaches
Where Wisdom Sense & reason teaches)
Those mushrooms plentiously abound
To day from dung hills starting found
427
A Learned lecturer shines confest
Where Ignorance around him stands
Groaning applause wi' lifted hands
Admiring with astonish'd wonder
Each thoughtless pause—& helpless blunder
‘And sure’ they cry ‘the mans uncommon
‘He never cou'd be born o' woman
‘He either comes or has from heaven
‘The Gift to give us what he's given!’
So Ignorance & conseit will swell 'em
For they'll know more then thou canst tell 'em
Besides the dress that thou art in
It rather smells too much o' sin
Their sacred touch it wou'd defile
Nor would they think it worth their while
Poor outcast ere to notice thee
Thourt none o' their comunity
‘Blind as a beetle’ they wou'd call thee
& safe as death to over haul thee
Say every page wants rerevising
& every ballad spir'tualizing
Call thee old Nickeys choise observant
& stile thy dad his humble servant
Then mind my book—I wish well to thee
I tell thou shun 'em—see & do thee
The next thing mind thee's neer to stop
To peep in to a grocers shop
For if thou dost—‘as sure's a Gun’
Thy travels end & I'm undone
Thee for his use he'll quickly handle
As rapper for some farthing candle
(His Customers politley pleasing
By Keeping Misses hands from greasing)
Or binding more disgracful stuff
Help goody to her ounce o' snuff
I tell thee plain enough—observe me
This & no better way he'll serve thee
No more thou need expect from him
Then being shatterd limb from limb
I can but tell thee for the best
Then shun him as thou shun'd the rest
To peep in to a grocers shop
428
Thy travels end & I'm undone
Thee for his use he'll quickly handle
As rapper for some farthing candle
(His Customers politley pleasing
By Keeping Misses hands from greasing)
Or binding more disgracful stuff
Help goody to her ounce o' snuff
I tell thee plain enough—observe me
This & no better way he'll serve thee
No more thou need expect from him
Then being shatterd limb from limb
I can but tell thee for the best
Then shun him as thou shun'd the rest
Next—when you happen on the road
To find [out] Industrys abode
Known 'mong the vulgar by a farm
Be cautious how you meet wi' harm
Tho with a caution little doubt it
(Theres nothing can be done without it)
You needn't see much fear in speeding
Tho few such folks delight in Reading—
However be it as it will
If here we're dissapointed still
Thou'rt none the worse for't—take but heed
So hark thee Book—& I'll proceed
Thou in a kitchen (dreadful place)
Must ne'er attempt to show thy face
For there each sensless wench will be
The worst of enemys to thee
They'll know no more 'bout what y'mean
Then thou 'bout them thoust never seen
But think thourt for no other use
(So ignorance wi' us plays the deuce)
Then just to rap their greazy heads
In curls each night they go to bed
Which every morning when they rise
Fresh kindling for the fire supplies
& pot & kettle holders serving
As if no better fate deserving
Till (like old News or almnacks)
Every page has gone to rack
This is the use they'll make of thee
Such is their taste for Poetry!
To find [out] Industrys abode
Known 'mong the vulgar by a farm
Be cautious how you meet wi' harm
Tho with a caution little doubt it
(Theres nothing can be done without it)
You needn't see much fear in speeding
Tho few such folks delight in Reading—
However be it as it will
If here we're dissapointed still
Thou'rt none the worse for't—take but heed
So hark thee Book—& I'll proceed
Thou in a kitchen (dreadful place)
Must ne'er attempt to show thy face
429
The worst of enemys to thee
They'll know no more 'bout what y'mean
Then thou 'bout them thoust never seen
But think thourt for no other use
(So ignorance wi' us plays the deuce)
Then just to rap their greazy heads
In curls each night they go to bed
Which every morning when they rise
Fresh kindling for the fire supplies
& pot & kettle holders serving
As if no better fate deserving
Till (like old News or almnacks)
Every page has gone to rack
This is the use they'll make of thee
Such is their taste for Poetry!
Nay—thy superiors & betters
Which fashion decks in golden Letters
'Spite o' their fine 'morocco backs
(A dress which thou must ever lack)
Are all tore up! disgracful shame
For jobs the muses blush to name
(Which often I've in sorrow seen)
Some booby's sh*tt*n clouts to Clean
To wish thee well in friendship trust me
If thats thy fate—why—so it must be
Which fashion decks in golden Letters
'Spite o' their fine 'morocco backs
(A dress which thou must ever lack)
Are all tore up! disgracful shame
For jobs the muses blush to name
(Which often I've in sorrow seen)
Some booby's sh*tt*n clouts to Clean
To wish thee well in friendship trust me
If thats thy fate—why—so it must be
Now Bookey mind—(while I am wi' thee)
The last advice I'm going to gie thee
Hardships past to this are small
Here both must rise or both must fall
(Oh dear I shudder while I think
On expectations doubtful brink)
Tis thine to meet the learned now
Wi' scraping boot & bending bow
& tho in manners little read
Simple, shanny, lowly bred
Yet never mind push forward book
Worth will excuse thy clownish look
Thy vulgar faults wi' them's but small
Good breeding over looks it all
& as to merit ne'er despair
If merits thine—thoult find it there
Worth tho drest mean they'll still regard it
& if its thine they'll sure reward it
Then trace the City & the town
Look up in hopes to meet—renown!
Exalted stations never mind
When chances fall ne'er sneak behind
But if they'll condesend to hear
Do thou brush on & never fear
And prythee book I beg the[e] mind
When its thy luck a friend to find
When worth & learning comes to own thee
As thy best friend thourt al'a's known me
Dont let thy pride thy dad forsaking
Forget the trouble he's been taking
To get thee what thy luck has gotten
& then to leave me here forgotten
—I'll trust thee Book—to friends petition
Nor make the best o' my condition
The last advice I'm going to gie thee
Hardships past to this are small
Here both must rise or both must fall
430
On expectations doubtful brink)
Tis thine to meet the learned now
Wi' scraping boot & bending bow
& tho in manners little read
Simple, shanny, lowly bred
Yet never mind push forward book
Worth will excuse thy clownish look
Thy vulgar faults wi' them's but small
Good breeding over looks it all
& as to merit ne'er despair
If merits thine—thoult find it there
Worth tho drest mean they'll still regard it
& if its thine they'll sure reward it
Then trace the City & the town
Look up in hopes to meet—renown!
Exalted stations never mind
When chances fall ne'er sneak behind
But if they'll condesend to hear
Do thou brush on & never fear
And prythee book I beg the[e] mind
When its thy luck a friend to find
When worth & learning comes to own thee
As thy best friend thourt al'a's known me
Dont let thy pride thy dad forsaking
Forget the trouble he's been taking
To get thee what thy luck has gotten
& then to leave me here forgotten
431
Nor make the best o' my condition
No never be asham'd to own it
Far better folks then I have known it
But tell em how thou left him moping
Thro oblivions darkness grouping
Still in its dark corner ryhmeing
& as usual ballad chyming
Wi' few ha'pence left to speed wi'
Poor & rag'd as beggars need be
—Money would be useful stuff
To the wise a hints enough
Then might we face every weather
Gogging hand in hand together
Tow'rds our Journeys end & aim
That fine place ycleped fame
May this be thine wi' all my heart
A Sigh still doubts it but depart
I've ga'e thee all as I can gie thee
So go & may good luck go wi' thee
Far better folks then I have known it
But tell em how thou left him moping
Thro oblivions darkness grouping
Still in its dark corner ryhmeing
& as usual ballad chyming
Wi' few ha'pence left to speed wi'
Poor & rag'd as beggars need be
—Money would be useful stuff
To the wise a hints enough
Then might we face every weather
Gogging hand in hand together
Tow'rds our Journeys end & aim
That fine place ycleped fame
May this be thine wi' all my heart
A Sigh still doubts it but depart
I've ga'e thee all as I can gie thee
So go & may good luck go wi' thee
Seek for the learned rich & great
They'll never mind thy Vulgar dress
& while I tremble for thy fate
I'll still have hopes of thy success
They'll never mind thy Vulgar dress
& while I tremble for thy fate
I'll still have hopes of thy success
| The early poems of John Clare | |