 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
THE SURRY TREE
Tree of the tawny berry rich though wildWhen mellowed to a pulp yet little known
Though shepherds by its dainty taste beguiled
Swarm with clasped leg the smooth trunk timber grown
& pulls the very topmost branches down
Tis beautiful when all the woods tan brown
To see thee thronged with berrys ripe & fine
For daintier palates fitting then the clown
Where hermits of a day may rove & dine
Luxuriantly amid thy crimson leaves
When different shades in different garbs appear
& furze spread heath a deeper green recieves
& fancy every sort of feeling weaves
& autumn comes & mellows all the year
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |