 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
459
FORREST TREES
The woods how lovely with their crowds of treesEach towering over each like hills oer hills
The oaks excess for darkest covert made
The mind with a sublime of pleasure fills
Then winged ash more sparingly displayed
A lightness oer the pensive eye distills
& elms in hanging branches mass oer mass
Determined still the woods to overlook
& willows feigning fondness for the grass
That leans oer pastoral pond & little brook
Like gipseys smoak beside the wood displays
Its lonely patch of green inclining greys
While the white poplar in the hedge so tall
Like leafy steeples overtops them all
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |