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 FAREWELL |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
THE FAREWELL
Ah adieu to the scene pastorallity yields
& adieu my dear village to thee
No one when we're parted will notice thy fields
Thoult then be as wretched as me
Sweet magic that holdeth my bosom in thrall
Thou parent of many a sigh
That makes that lovd siren the ‘Jewel of all’
True love & sweet Patty—Good bye
& adieu my dear village to thee
No one when we're parted will notice thy fields
Thoult then be as wretched as me
Sweet magic that holdeth my bosom in thrall
Thou parent of many a sigh
That makes that lovd siren the ‘Jewel of all’
True love & sweet Patty—Good bye
473
Ah why can I sweetest of blessings exchanging
Ere sigh for the charms of the town
Ah why do I hope to be happy in ranging
Ah [why] wou'd I seek for renown
In vainly pursuing the shadow of pleasure
I bid to the substance adieu
Alas thou cant think it my hearts dearest treasure
The pain of departing from you
Ere sigh for the charms of the town
Ah why do I hope to be happy in ranging
Ah [why] wou'd I seek for renown
In vainly pursuing the shadow of pleasure
I bid to the substance adieu
Alas thou cant think it my hearts dearest treasure
The pain of departing from you
Where spread the wild roses in blushes oerladen
Where droops the buds burthen of dew
There in the wild pasture I met the sweet maiden
Provd since so endearing & true
While chance found the worth which remembrance endeareth
Ah in vain City beauties may shine
When beauties superior to others appeareth
The[y]ll be but advancments to thine
Where droops the buds burthen of dew
There in the wild pasture I met the sweet maiden
Provd since so endearing & true
While chance found the worth which remembrance endeareth
Ah in vain City beauties may shine
When beauties superior to others appeareth
The[y]ll be but advancments to thine
I vowd not to leave thee I vowd & I broke it
& left my best blessing forlorn
Its value thy tear at our parting bespoke it
O the stamp of that worth is a thorn
But bloom on sweet ‘rose bud’ thy beauty still wear it
& let not grief blight it for me
What evers my fortune my angel shall share it
Ill stoop to be equal to thee
& left my best blessing forlorn
Its value thy tear at our parting bespoke it
O the stamp of that worth is a thorn
474
& let not grief blight it for me
What evers my fortune my angel shall share it
Ill stoop to be equal to thee
The rivers with held from their scources the ocean
Which commerces Intrest[s] detain
When once freedom rolls its curld waves into motion
Retreats to the Ocean again
So when on the road my fond hopes are sojourning
From the noise of the city set free
Ah then best of blessings to speed my returning
I'll retreat my dear patty to thee
Which commerces Intrest[s] detain
When once freedom rolls its curld waves into motion
Retreats to the Ocean again
So when on the road my fond hopes are sojourning
From the noise of the city set free
Ah then best of blessings to speed my returning
I'll retreat my dear patty to thee
The coach as soon rumbling along the hard road
Shall stifle the heart swelling sigh
I soon must be missing from comforts abode
& biding my kindred good bye
Adieu my dear village lovd cottage adieu
No language my feeling can tell
Departing from comforts departing from you
All, all I love dearly—farewell
Shall stifle the heart swelling sigh
I soon must be missing from comforts abode
& biding my kindred good bye
Adieu my dear village lovd cottage adieu
No language my feeling can tell
Departing from comforts departing from you
All, all I love dearly—farewell
O the wildness the warmth in my heart that did melt
A ranging field meadow & moor
O blisses enjoy'd o the raptures I felt
I wander to feel ye no more
Once more adieu village lovd cottage & plain
Long long Ive been happy in you
How I love you & mourn you I cannot Explain
So all I love dearly—adieu
A ranging field meadow & moor
O blisses enjoy'd o the raptures I felt
I wander to feel ye no more
475
Long long Ive been happy in you
How I love you & mourn you I cannot Explain
So all I love dearly—adieu
Ye swains of the teams & ye swains of the fold
Ye ploughmen & shepherds adieu
You rural enchanters—ye angels! of old
Sweet milkmaids Good bye unto you
So warm in your praise as Ive often times been
The fields & the meadows among
As happy ye maids as Ive strolld oer the Green
To picture your charms in my song
Ye ploughmen & shepherds adieu
You rural enchanters—ye angels! of old
Sweet milkmaids Good bye unto you
So warm in your praise as Ive often times been
The fields & the meadows among
As happy ye maids as Ive strolld oer the Green
To picture your charms in my song
Ah maidens & swains & all blessings beside
I leave higher means to pursue
Ah blessings unknown to politness & pride
That made me your equal adieu
Ah foolish allurements that bids ye adieu
The citys defilements a stain
Its taste & its fashion will deem such as you
Unworthy of notice again
I leave higher means to pursue
Ah blessings unknown to politness & pride
That made me your equal adieu
Ah foolish allurements that bids ye adieu
The citys defilements a stain
Its taste & its fashion will deem such as you
Unworthy of notice again
Rural muse sweet inspirer so oft on whose arm
Ive been led her sweet scenes to behold
To notice domestic conscerns of the farm
& rural delights of the fold
From all thy endearments I forcibly part
False taste has no being with you
O the sigh that unfoldeth my anguish of heart
Now I bid ye a final adieu
Ive been led her sweet scenes to behold
To notice domestic conscerns of the farm
& rural delights of the fold
From all thy endearments I forcibly part
False taste has no being with you
O the sigh that unfoldeth my anguish of heart
Now I bid ye a final adieu
476
The coach now is ready to rattle & start
Muse throw down thy pastoral pen
I leave thee to learn the refinements of art
& never shall meet thee agen
Thou low simple somthing so ready to please
To nature so vulgar & true
Thou sweetness perfuming such simples as these
Thou last rural rapture—adieu
Muse throw down thy pastoral pen
I leave thee to learn the refinements of art
& never shall meet thee agen
Thou low simple somthing so ready to please
To nature so vulgar & true
Thou sweetness perfuming such simples as these
Thou last rural rapture—adieu
| The early poems of John Clare | |