 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
165
VALENTINE TO MARY
This visionary theme is thine
From one who loves thee still
Tis writ to thee a Valentine
But call it what you will
No more as wont thy beaming eye
To violets I compare
Nor talk about the lilys dye
To tell thee thou art fair
From one who loves thee still
Tis writ to thee a Valentine
But call it what you will
No more as wont thy beaming eye
To violets I compare
Nor talk about the lilys dye
To tell thee thou art fair
The time is past when hopes sweet will
First linked thy name with mine
& the fond muse with simple skill
Chose thee its Valentine
Though some may yet their powers employ
To wreath with flowers thy brow
With me thy loves a withered joy
With hope thourt nothing now
First linked thy name with mine
& the fond muse with simple skill
Chose thee its Valentine
Though some may yet their powers employ
To wreath with flowers thy brow
With me thy loves a withered joy
With hope thourt nothing now
The all that youths fond spring esteems
Its blossoms pluckt in May
Are gone like flowers in summer dreams
& thoughts of yesterday
The heavenly dreams of early love
Youths spell has broken there
& left the aching heart to prove
That earth owns nought so fair
Its blossoms pluckt in May
Are gone like flowers in summer dreams
& thoughts of yesterday
The heavenly dreams of early love
Youths spell has broken there
& left the aching heart to prove
That earth owns nought so fair
Spring flowers were fitting hopes young songs
To grace loves earliest vow
But withered ones that autumn wrongs
Are emblems meetest now
Their perished blooms that once were green
Hopes faded tale can tell
Of shadows were a sun hath been
& suits its memory well
To grace loves earliest vow
But withered ones that autumn wrongs
Are emblems meetest now
Their perished blooms that once were green
Hopes faded tale can tell
Of shadows were a sun hath been
& suits its memory well
Then why should I on such a day
Address a song to thee
When withered hope hath died away
& love no more can be
When blinded fate that still destroys
Hath rendered all as vain
& parted from the bosom joys
Twill never meet again
Address a song to thee
When withered hope hath died away
& love no more can be
When blinded fate that still destroys
Hath rendered all as vain
166
Twill never meet again
The substance of our joys hath been
Their flowers have faded long
But memory keeps the shadow green
& wakes this idle song
Then let esteem a welcome prove
That can t its place resign
& friendship take the place of love
To send a valentine
Their flowers have faded long
But memory keeps the shadow green
& wakes this idle song
Then let esteem a welcome prove
That can t its place resign
& friendship take the place of love
To send a valentine
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |