 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
STRAY WALKS
How pleasant are the fields to roam & think
Whole sabbaths through unnoticed & alone
Beside the little molehill skirted brink
Of the small brook that skips oer many a stone
Or green woodside where many a squatting oak
Far oer grass screeds their white stained branches hing
Forming in pleasant close a happy seat
To nestle in while small birds chirp & sing
& the loud blackbird will its mate provoke
More louder yet its chorus to repeat
How pleasant is it thus to think & roam
The many paths scarce knowing which to chuse
All full of pleasant scenes—then wander home
& oer the beautys we have met to muse
Whole sabbaths through unnoticed & alone
Beside the little molehill skirted brink
Of the small brook that skips oer many a stone
Or green woodside where many a squatting oak
Far oer grass screeds their white stained branches hing
Forming in pleasant close a happy seat
To nestle in while small birds chirp & sing
& the loud blackbird will its mate provoke
More louder yet its chorus to repeat
How pleasant is it thus to think & roam
The many paths scarce knowing which to chuse
All full of pleasant scenes—then wander home
& oer the beautys we have met to muse
455
Tis sunday & the little paths that wind
Through closen green by hedges & wood sides
& like a brook corn crowded slope divides
Of pleasant fields—their frequent passers find
From early morn to mellow close of day
On different errands climbing many stiles
Oer hung with awthorn tempting haste to stay
& cool some moments of the road away
When hot & high the uncheckt summer smiles
Some journeying to the little hamlet hid
In dark surrounding trees to see their friends
While some sweet leisures aimless road pursue
Wherever fancys musing pleasure wends
To woods or lakes or church thats never out of view
Through closen green by hedges & wood sides
& like a brook corn crowded slope divides
Of pleasant fields—their frequent passers find
From early morn to mellow close of day
On different errands climbing many stiles
Oer hung with awthorn tempting haste to stay
& cool some moments of the road away
When hot & high the uncheckt summer smiles
Some journeying to the little hamlet hid
In dark surrounding trees to see their friends
While some sweet leisures aimless road pursue
Wherever fancys musing pleasure wends
To woods or lakes or church thats never out of view
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |