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 RECANTATION |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
THE RECANTATION
Tho false virtue disaproves thee—
Whats the harm the world wont raise
Nor conscerns it him who loves thee
Thus believing all she says
Now that ruins foes infest thee
Now thourt most in need of friends
Who so right as now to help thee
Who but him who thus pretends
Whats the harm the world wont raise
Nor conscerns it him who loves thee
Thus believing all she says
Now that ruins foes infest thee
Now thourt most in need of friends
Who so right as now to help thee
Who but him who thus pretends
Coud their lies urge me to slight thee
Seeming worth to dissaprove
Coud thy sorrow then delight me
Thus to hurt the maid I love
Listning them O coud I leave thee
Nearest friend & foulest foe
So pretend & then decieve thee
Coud I do it—never—no
Seeming worth to dissaprove
Coud thy sorrow then delight me
Thus to hurt the maid I love
442
Nearest friend & foulest foe
So pretend & then decieve thee
Coud I do it—never—no
Fains the base that joy to blame thee
Wish thou bad as them shoud seem
First are such who woud defame thee
Glad to undermine esteem
Why should I then—but defy it
Why let slanders tongue deceive
When no proof can justify it
Who so foolish to believe
Wish thou bad as them shoud seem
First are such who woud defame thee
Glad to undermine esteem
Why should I then—but defy it
Why let slanders tongue deceive
When no proof can justify it
Who so foolish to believe
While rose sweets the canker draws on't
While we see the poisonous power
Little gardners doubt the cause ont
They but wish to save the flower
Bud while cankerworms surround thee
Joyd to wait thy overthrow
Ere my added scorn coud wound thee
My repentance shares thy woe
While we see the poisonous power
Little gardners doubt the cause ont
They but wish to save the flower
Bud while cankerworms surround thee
Joyd to wait thy overthrow
Ere my added scorn coud wound thee
My repentance shares thy woe
| The early poems of John Clare | |