The early poems of John Clare :: :: University of Virginia Library

The faint sun tipt the rising Ground
No Blustry wind—the air was still
The Blue mist thinly scatterd round
Verg'd along the distant hill
Delightful morn—from labour free
I jocund met the southwest gale
While here and there a busy bee
Hum'd sweetly oer the flowery vale

O! Joyful morn:—on pleasure bent
Down thy green slopes and fields I flew
And thro' the thickest covert went
Which hid me from the public view
Nor was it shame nor was it fear
No no it was my own dear choise
I love the Brierey thicket where
Echo keeps her mocking voice

The suns increasing heat was kind
His warm beams chear'd the vales around
I left my own fields far behind
And pilgrim-like trod foreign ground
The glowing landscapes charms I caught
Where ere I look't or wander'd oer
And every wood and field me thought
A greener brighter prospect wore

Delicious morn!—thou'lt always find
When a hours pastime intervenes
A vacant opening in my mind
To think and cherish thy fond scenes
Tho no hughe rock approach'd my sight
Nor lofty mountain rear'd its head
Enough for wonder and delight
All around my path was spread

Sometimes musing on the skie
Then list'ning to the waterfall
Now saw—the sun beams mounted high
Glistering shine on walkerd hall
Thus I often made a stand
Thus I mark't each curious spot
And seemingly to court my hand
I now and then a cowslip got

But Barnack Sinnoms thines the place
Where antique forms are dimly shown
There oer thy moss grown hills I trace
Scenes which never will be known
The deep sunk moat the stoney mound
Brought oer my mind a pensive fit
And ‘ah’ thought I while looking round
‘Their heads dont ache that made yon pit’

O! thou long rememberd morn
How blest was I in these dear vales
When snugly hid beneath the thorn
I mus'd oer Bloomfields ‘rural tales’
And there sweet bard thy forest song
Describ'd with energy sublime
Fraught with such music charmd my tongue
And turn'd my simple thoughts to ryhme

Thus ever varying my mind
Ever running like the rill
Soon I left these scenes behind
In quest of others brighter still
Yet not for ever!—no ye vales
I love your pleasant shades too well
And often since to view your dales
I've brush'd along the upland swell

Now nothing save a running stream
For awhile my eye engag'd
Whose plaintive murmurs soothd my dream
And all aspiring thoughts assuag'd
Now as near its mossy bank
I well remember how I lay
Stretching oer the oaken plank
To see the dancing beetles play

Tho the stranger passing by
Scarcley gave a single look
Yet for a whole day I could lye
And pore upon this little brook
Well pleas'd to view its winding rounds
And see the eddying purls it made
But still its daisy skirted bounds
Like ‘Barnam water wants a shade’

But O! that spot so long endear'd
Gleaming rapterous on my sight
Fill'd—ere the oak tree tops appeard
My Breast with wonder and delight
There art and nature friendly join'd
Intermingling charm'd the eye
And as their varying forms combin'd
Each gave each a nobler dye

O! fancy now I ask thy aid
And Poet like to guide my flight
Point out every charming shade
Freshen all before my sight
Enough thy power—the spacious park
The towering chasenuts hughe and high
The arching groves and walks so dark
And all appear in mem'rys eye

With deep regret I view'd the spire
Which told the busy vil so nigh
For lonley shades are my desire
Far from the reach of human eye
The foot pad turning to the town
No longer provd alone to me
Loud noisy murmurs filld the air
And spoild my deep sollemnity

The passing hours jog'd on apace
And in their progress seem'd to say
‘Haste and gain that destind place
‘Or soon thoult loose the flitting day’
I instantly obey'd their call
Nor went to where the foot-pad lay
But clamberd oer an old rough wall
And stole across the nearest way

No spire I caught nor woody swell
My Eye confind to lower bounds
Yet not to mark the flowrets bell
But watch the owners of the grounds
Their presence was my only fear
No boughs to shield me if they came
And soon amid my rash career
I deem'd such trespasing to blame

For troubl'd thoughts began to rise
Of ills almost beyond relief
Which might from this one cause arise
And leave me there to whant reprief
So arguing with my self how vain
An afterthought ‘Still to keep free’
Made me to seek the road again
And own the force of Liberty

For O! its unabated power
Did then my breast with raptures fill
And sure it was a happy hour
That led me up to Barnack hill

There uncontrould I knew no bounds
But lookt oer Villages a crowd
And cots and spires to farthest rounds
While far trees seem'd a misty cloud

While tir'd with such farstretching views
I left the green hills sideling slope
But O! so tempting was the muse
She made me wish she made me hope
I wish'd and hop'd that future days
(For scenes prophetic fill'd my breast)
Whould grant to me a Crown of bays
By singing maids and shepherds drest

These for awhile gave such delight
And occupy'd my mind so strong
That not one view could tempt my sight
But all unheeded passd along
Save only when that destin'd place
As yet unknown tho long endear'd
Enrich'd with many a namles grace
Thro Fancys flitting eye appear'd

At length I came where taper poles
'Reft of their grains from top to toe
Stood uniform mid hills and holes
Naked waving to and fro
‘Well ye mimic shades’ thought I
‘If this be grandeur give me still
‘The wild wood shade where I may lye
‘And see their branches spread at will’

But when aside the spacious park
The massy grated gate I saw
And arching groves and walks so dark
They struck me with a sacred awe

To see the rows of trees so green
As far as eye can stretch to see
And such long gravel walks so clean
Was wonderful indeed to me