 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
140
FAREWELL TO LOVE
Love & thy vain employs away
From this too oft deluded breast
No longer will I court thy stay
To be my bosoms teazing guest
Thou treacherous medicine reckoned pure
Thou quackery of the harrassed heart
That kills what thou pretendst to cure
Life mountebank thou art
From this too oft deluded breast
No longer will I court thy stay
To be my bosoms teazing guest
Thou treacherous medicine reckoned pure
Thou quackery of the harrassed heart
That kills what thou pretendst to cure
Life mountebank thou art
With nostrum vain of boasted powers
That taen a worse disorder breeds
An asp hid in a group of flowers
That kills & slays when none percieves
Thou mock truce to the troubled mind
Leading it on in sorrows way
Freedom that leaves us more confined
I bid thee hence away
That taen a worse disorder breeds
An asp hid in a group of flowers
That kills & slays when none percieves
Thou mock truce to the troubled mind
Leading it on in sorrows way
Freedom that leaves us more confined
I bid thee hence away
Dost taunt & deem my power beyond
The resolution reason gave
Tut—falsity hath snapt each bond
That made me once thy quiet slave
& made thy snares a spiders threads
Which een my breath can break in twain
Nor will I be like Sampson led
To trust thy wiles again
The resolution reason gave
Tut—falsity hath snapt each bond
That made me once thy quiet slave
& made thy snares a spiders threads
Which een my breath can break in twain
Nor will I be like Sampson led
To trust thy wiles again
I took thee as my staff to guide
Me on the road I did pursue
& when my weakness most relied
Upon its strength it broke in two
I took thee as my friendly host
That council might in dangers show
But when I needed thee the most
I found thou wert my foe
Me on the road I did pursue
& when my weakness most relied
Upon its strength it broke in two
I took thee as my friendly host
That council might in dangers show
But when I needed thee the most
I found thou wert my foe
So go thou folly painted toy
Thou plaything all display
I will at least outbrave the boy
& throw such idle toys away
Thou dream for follys idle hour
Which I have found a dream indeed
Thou distant seeming showey flower
That proves when near a weed
Thou plaything all display
I will at least outbrave the boy
& throw such idle toys away
Thou dream for follys idle hour
Which I have found a dream indeed
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That proves when near a weed
Go trump thy mystic lotterys
Elsewere—veiled neath deceptions blot
Holding out every draw a prize
Where worthless blanks are only got
& flourish with thy patron dame
Yclipt a goddess & her boy
That fills the world with empty fame
& lives in painted joy
Elsewere—veiled neath deceptions blot
Holding out every draw a prize
Where worthless blanks are only got
& flourish with thy patron dame
Yclipt a goddess & her boy
That fills the world with empty fame
& lives in painted joy
Tempt me no more with rosey cheeks
Nor daze my reason with bright eyes
Im wearied with thy painted freaks
& sicken at such vanitys
Be roseys fine as eer they will
They with the meanest fade & dye
& eyes though thronged with darts to kill
Are doomed to like mortality
Nor daze my reason with bright eyes
Im wearied with thy painted freaks
& sicken at such vanitys
Be roseys fine as eer they will
They with the meanest fade & dye
& eyes though thronged with darts to kill
Are doomed to like mortality
Feed the young bard that madly sips
His nectar draughts from follys flowers
Bright eyes fair cheeks & ruby lips
Till muses melt to honey showers
Lure him to thrum thy empty lays
While flattery listens to the chimes
Till words themselves grow sick with praise
& stops for want of ryhmes
His nectar draughts from follys flowers
Bright eyes fair cheeks & ruby lips
Till muses melt to honey showers
Lure him to thrum thy empty lays
While flattery listens to the chimes
Till words themselves grow sick with praise
& stops for want of ryhmes
Let such be still thy paramours
& chaunt loves old & idle tune
Robbing the spring of all her flowers
& heaven of its stars & moon
To guild with dazzling similies
Blind follys vain & empty lay
Im sobered from such phantacys
So get thee hence away
& chaunt loves old & idle tune
Robbing the spring of all her flowers
& heaven of its stars & moon
To guild with dazzling similies
Blind follys vain & empty lay
Im sobered from such phantacys
So get thee hence away
Nor bid me sigh for mine own cost
Nor count it loss for mine anoy
Nor say my stubbornness hath lost
A paradise of dainty joy
I'll not believe thee till I know
That sober reason turns an ape
Or acts the harlequin to show
That cares in every shape
Nor count it loss for mine anoy
Nor say my stubbornness hath lost
A paradise of dainty joy
I'll not believe thee till I know
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Or acts the harlequin to show
That cares in every shape
Heart aching sighs & grief wrung tears
Shame blushes at betrayed distress
Dissembled smiles & jealous fears
Are nought but real happiness
Then will I mourn what now I brave
& suffer Celias quirks to be
Like a poor fate bewildered slave
The rulers of my destiny
Shame blushes at betrayed distress
Dissembled smiles & jealous fears
Are nought but real happiness
Then will I mourn what now I brave
& suffer Celias quirks to be
Like a poor fate bewildered slave
The rulers of my destiny
I'll weep & sigh when eer she wills
To frown—& when she deigns to smile
It shall be cure for all my ills
& foolish still I'll laugh the while
But till that comes I'll bless the rules
Experience taught & deem it wise
To hold thee as the game of fools
& all thy tricks despise
To frown—& when she deigns to smile
It shall be cure for all my ills
& foolish still I'll laugh the while
But till that comes I'll bless the rules
Experience taught & deem it wise
To hold thee as the game of fools
& all thy tricks despise
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |