 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
491
EARLY MORNING
Morn with her sober shadows tall & thinStalks forth a field with slow & solemn stride
Like thinking poet some new joy to win
& in its little clump of trees espied
The mossy cottage hidden like a nest
Smokes from its plastered chimney while the lark
Sings oer her nestlings in the neighbouring corn
There toil made stirring by the restless cock
His early breakfast hastily prepares
& stooping hies afield its earliest guest
& happiest—for he sings from light to dark
Tracking the grassy pathways night & morn
He ask[s] of passing stranger whats o'clock
& heeds but little save his own affairs
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |