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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| A RAMBLE |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
A RAMBLE
How sweet & dear
To tastes warm bosom & to healths flusht cheek
Morns flushing face peeps out her first fond smile
Crimsoning the east in many tinted hue
The horison round as edgd with brooding mist
Penc'ling its seeming circle round so uniform
In ting[e] of faintly blue—how lovly then
The streak which matchless nature skirting sweet
Flushes the edges of the arching sky
& melting draws the hangings of the morn
O who that lives as free to mark the charms
Of natures earliest dress far from the smoak
& cheerless bustle of the citys strife
To breathe the cool sweet air mark the blue skye
& all the namless beauties limning morn
So beautifully touches who when free
By drowsy slumbers ere would be detain'd
Snoaring supinley oer their idle dreams
Would lie to loose a charm so charming now
As is the early morn—come now well start
Arise my dog & shake thy curdled coat
& bark thy friendly symptoms by my side
Tracing the dewy plains well muse along
Behind us left our nooked track wild wound
From bush to bush as rambling in we tread
Peeping on dew gilt branch moist grassy tuft
& natures every trifle ere so mean
Her every trifle pleases much mine eye
So on we hie to witness what she wears
How beautiful een seems
This simple twig that steals it from the hedge
& wavering dipples down to taste the stream
I cannot think it how the reason is
That every trifle natures bosom wears
Should seem so lovly & appear so sweet
& charm so much my soul while heedless passenger
Soodles me bye an animated post
& neer so much as turns his head to look
But staulks along as tho his eyes were blinded
& as if the witching face of nature
Held but now a dark unmeaning blank
To tastes warm bosom & to healths flusht cheek
Morns flushing face peeps out her first fond smile
Crimsoning the east in many tinted hue
The horison round as edgd with brooding mist
Penc'ling its seeming circle round so uniform
In ting[e] of faintly blue—how lovly then
The streak which matchless nature skirting sweet
Flushes the edges of the arching sky
& melting draws the hangings of the morn
O who that lives as free to mark the charms
Of natures earliest dress far from the smoak
& cheerless bustle of the citys strife
To breathe the cool sweet air mark the blue skye
501
So beautifully touches who when free
By drowsy slumbers ere would be detain'd
Snoaring supinley oer their idle dreams
Would lie to loose a charm so charming now
As is the early morn—come now well start
Arise my dog & shake thy curdled coat
& bark thy friendly symptoms by my side
Tracing the dewy plains well muse along
Behind us left our nooked track wild wound
From bush to bush as rambling in we tread
Peeping on dew gilt branch moist grassy tuft
& natures every trifle ere so mean
Her every trifle pleases much mine eye
So on we hie to witness what she wears
How beautiful een seems
This simple twig that steals it from the hedge
& wavering dipples down to taste the stream
I cannot think it how the reason is
That every trifle natures bosom wears
Should seem so lovly & appear so sweet
& charm so much my soul while heedless passenger
Soodles me bye an animated post
& neer so much as turns his head to look
But staulks along as tho his eyes were blinded
& as if the witching face of nature
Held but now a dark unmeaning blank
O Taste thou charm
That so endears & nature makes so lovly
Namless enthuseastic ardour thine
That wilderd witching rapture 'quisitive
Stooping bent genius oer each object—thine
That longing pausing wish that cannot pass
Uncomprehended things withou[t] a sigh
For wisdom to unseal the hidden cause
That ankering gaze as thine that fainly would
Turn the blue blinders of the heavens aside
To see what gods are doing
What ist wi breaking thro the hedge
That so endears & nature makes so lovly
Namless enthuseastic ardour thine
502
Stooping bent genius oer each object—thine
That longing pausing wish that cannot pass
Uncomprehended things withou[t] a sigh
For wisdom to unseal the hidden cause
That ankering gaze as thine that fainly would
Turn the blue blinders of the heavens aside
To see what gods are doing
& in the dyke pit pattering rustles in
Through moss & witherd leaves uncoothly [born]
Tis that poor hedgehog every bristles up
A thousand spears in the defensive winds
Protects these timid creatures & preserves
For combat or for flight
Ah quiet disconcerted timid friend
Thy claw is rough as [OMITTED] through
A trifle such as nature musters up
To wind her way compleatly round
& make a graceful finish
A trifle such as every bosom loves
Which honest taste of nature does Inspire
How sweet to wind the lane confined as now
In a lovd prison of oer hanging boughs
As loosd & wirls each turning round & round
Some new variety keeps d[r]op[p]ing in
Fresh flowr or scene speckt cot or steeples point
Just sprouting oer the horizon still changing sweet
[Flowering] lovley & for ever new
As on proceeding to the lanes last end
[Pastor[a]lls] gently on a hill whose rise commands
A bursting view apprising on the eye
503
Meadow & culterd field of varied hue
& Hierogliphs of art dropt here & there
& mingling patchd with cottages & spires
As rugged & as barren as it seems
This heath too has its beauties
Brush we on Unheeding rude assaults
Of Brambles' pertinent & catching finger
So sweetly wild & perminant of hue
& heaths low creeping in their pinky bloom
& here beside the dead bents rustling tuft
A blossom hides its beauties from the world
& such a one as natures happiest hand
Neer took a tool to scoop & hollow out
One of more curious interesting form
Its speckld petals c[a]lyx burnishd gold
Inmixd with somber hues exactly forms
A living ins cot for Industry famd
& hence this natures solitary gem
That numbers in her calender of curosities
[Gains] its distinguishment tho neer unknown
The ‘Bee flower’ apt characteristic name
| The early poems of John Clare | |