 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
HOMELESS
I've wandered many a weary mile
—Love in my heart was burning—
To seek a home in Mary's smile,
But cold is life's sojourning;
The cold ground was a feather-bed,
—Truth never acts contrary—
I had no home above my head,
My home was love and Mary.
—Love in my heart was burning—
To seek a home in Mary's smile,
But cold is life's sojourning;
The cold ground was a feather-bed,
—Truth never acts contrary—
I had no home above my head,
My home was love and Mary.
I had no home in early youth,
When my first love was thwarted;
But if her heart still beats with truth
We'll nevermore be parted.
And changing as her love may be,
My own shall never vary;
Nor night nor day I'm never free,
But sigh for absent Mary.
When my first love was thwarted;
But if her heart still beats with truth
We'll nevermore be parted.
393
My own shall never vary;
Nor night nor day I'm never free,
But sigh for absent Mary.
Nor night nor day, nor sun nor shade,
Week, month, nor rolling year,
Repairs the breach wronged love hath made:
There madness, misery here.
Life's lease was lengthened by her smiles,
—Are truth and love contrary?
No ray of hope my fate beguiles;
I've lost love, home, and Mary.
Week, month, nor rolling year,
Repairs the breach wronged love hath made:
There madness, misery here.
Life's lease was lengthened by her smiles,
—Are truth and love contrary?
No ray of hope my fate beguiles;
I've lost love, home, and Mary.
| The Poems of John Clare | |