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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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AUTUMN

The summer flower has run to seed
& yellow is the wood land bough
& every leaf of bush & weed
Is tipt wi autumns pencil now
& I do love the varied hue
& I do love the browning plain
& I do love each scene to view
Thats markd wi beauties of her reign
The wood bine trees red berries bare
That clustering hang upon the bower
While fondly lingering here & there
Peeps out a dwindling sickly flower

74

The trees gay dress is turned brown
By every little wind undrest
& as they flap & whistle down
We 'sern the birds deserted nest
No thrush or black bird meets our eye
Nor fills our ear wi summers strain
They but dart out for worm & flye
Then silent seek their rest again
Beside the brook in mistey blue
Billberries glow on tendrils weak
Where many a barefoot splashes thro
The pulpy juicy prize to seek
For tis the rustic boys delight
Now autumns sun so warmly gleams
& these ripe berries tempt his sight
To dabble in the shallow streams
& oft their rambles we may trace
Delvd in the mud their printing feet
& oft we meet a chubby face
Stained wi the berries sweet
The cow boy oft slives down the brook
& tracks for hours each winding round
While pindars that such chances look
Drives his rambling cows to pound
The wood land bowers that usd to be
Lost to their silence & their shade
Are now a scene of rural glee
Wi many a nutting swain & maid

75

The scrambling shepherd wi his hook
Mong hazel boughs of rusty brown
Oerhanging side some gulping brook
Drags the ripend clusters down
While on a bank of faded grass
Some artless maid the prize recieves
& happy for the suntand lass
If nutts be all the shepherd gives
I love the years decline & love
Thro rustling yellow shades to range
Oer stubble land neath willow grove
To pause upon each varied change
I oft [have] thought twas sweet to list
The stubbles crackling wi the heat
Just as the sun broke thro the mist
& warmd the herds mans rushey seat
& grunting noise of rambling hogs
Where pattering acorns oddly drop
& noisey bark of shepherds dogs
The restless routs of sheep to stop
While distant threshers swingel drops
Wi sharp & hollow twanking raps
& nigh at hand the echoing chops
Of hardy hedger stopping gaps

76

The sportsmens trembling whistle calls
That stay the swift retreating pack
& cowboys whoops & squawking brawls
To urge the straggling heifer back
Autumn time thy scenes & shades
Are pleasing to the tastful eye
Tho winter when the thought prevades
Creates an ague shivering sigh
Grey bearded ryhmes hang on the morn
& whats to come too true declares
The ice drop hardens on the thorn
& winters starving bed prepares
No musics heard the fields among
Save where the hedge chats chittering play
& ploughman drawls his lonley song
As cutting short the dreary day
Hail natures scenes in lifes decline
Ye woods & field wore bare & rude
Your rudest meting scenes are mine
& mine your gloomy solitude
The shatterd shades let me attend
Reflecting look on their decline
Where pattering leaves confess their end
In sighing flutterings hinting mine

77

For every leaf that twirls the breeze
May usful hints & lessons give
The fall of leaves & fading trees
Will learn & caution us to live
Wandering clown they seem to say
In us your coming end review
Like you we livd but now we die
The same sad fate approaches you
As mortal as the leaves you sing
Sad subject to the like decay
To morrow autumns blight may bring
Your journey then prepare to day
The meanest trifles we behold
A simple way to wisdom leads
Some usful lessons all unfold
Which simple wisdom plainly reads
O autumn while each varied charm
My artless warming soul admires
My songs too may thy beauties warm
& let me sing as thou inspires
Beneath a yellow fading tree
As red suns light thy autumn morn
In wildest raptures let me see
The sweets that most thy charms adorn

78

Be fading woods & fields the theme
Such scenes as most to thee belongs
Where countless beauties round me teem
Such as may grace my simple songs
O while my eye the landscape views
What birthless beauties are displayd
What varied tints of namless hues
Shades endless melting into shade
A russet red the hazel gains
As suiting to its drear decline
While maples brightest dress retains
& in the gayest yellows shine
The poplar tree hath lost its pride
In wan consumption leaves decline
They hoary turn on either side
& life to every gale resign
The stubborn oak wi haughty pride
Still in its lingering green we view
Tho strength he shows but vainly tryd
Betinging slow wi sickly hue
The proudest triumph art concieves
Or beauties natures power can crown
Grey bearded time in shatters leaves
Destructions trample treads em down
Tis lovley now to turn ones eye
The changing face of heaven to mind
How thin spun clouds glide swiftly bye
Wi lurking storms slow movd behind

79

Now suns are clear now clouds prevade
Each moment changd & changd again
& first a light & then a shade
Swift glooms & brightens oer the plain
Poor pussey thro the stubble flies
In vain oer powering foes to shun
The lurking spaniel points the prize
& pusseys harmless race is run
The crowing pheasant in the brakes
Betrays his lare wi awkard squawls
A certain aim the gunner take[s]
He clumbsy fluskers up & falls
But hide thee muse the woods among
Nor stain thy artless rural rhymes
Go leave the murderers wiles unsung
Nor mark the hardnd gunners crimes
The fields all cleard the labouring mice
To sheltering hedge & wood patroles
Where hips & haws for food suffice
That chimbld lie about their holes
& squirrel bobbing from the eye
Is busy now about its hurd
& in old nes[t] of crow or pye
His winter stores is oft explord

80

The leaves now leave the willow grey
& down the brook they wirl & wind
So hopes & pleasures wirl away
& leave a remnant pain behind
The thorns & briars vermillion hue
Now full of hips & haws are seen
If village prophesies be true
They prove too winter will be keen
The brook by hasty showers is swelld
Nor crimpling gravley bottom shows
Een rutts wi muddy force compeld
A dribbling runnel chittering flows
Hark startld are some lonley strains
The robin bird is urgd to sing
Of chilly even he complains
& dithering droops his ruffld wing
Slow oer the wood the puddock sails
& mournful as the storms arise
His peelew note of sorrow wails
To the unpitying frowning skies
More colder blows the autumn breeze
Old winter grins a blast between
The north winds rise & strip the trees
& desolation shuts the scene