 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
454
MEADOW PATHS
The meadow with its sweep of level greenGoes winding onward from admiring eyes
Strangers can't say there winter floods have been
So vivid & so beautiful it lies
Its rich grass fanning to the young soft winds
While clumps of early daisys ope their eyes
& please the passenger that often winds
The little paths that cross it here & there
Winding to market village feast or fair
& more then happy doth the schoolboy go
With little basket swinging at his side
Tracing their verdant carpets too & fro
Morning & night with leisure gratified
While earth with Gods rich blessings overflow
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |