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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TO THE MUSE |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
TO THE MUSE
Up wi ye drowsy drizzling muse
Nor clag yer clouts nor foul yer shoes
Wi peeping in the dabbling dews
On rural sights
Up wi ye aim at higher views
& bolder flights
Nor clag yer clouts nor foul yer shoes
Wi peeping in the dabbling dews
On rural sights
Up wi ye aim at higher views
& bolder flights
Yeve food enough to feed desires
Sin gents & cits & country squires
Your artless first atempts admires
Thou worst of beagles
Im sure yeve kindling for yer fires
To soar wi eagles
Sin gents & cits & country squires
Your artless first atempts admires
Thou worst of beagles
Im sure yeve kindling for yer fires
To soar wi eagles
206
& hark ye muse yer infant blaze
That gis the world a fortnights gaze
& wonder gawps an hours amaze
Here lies the game
If ye cant come at bolder lays
Yowms tinder flame
That gis the world a fortnights gaze
& wonder gawps an hours amaze
Here lies the game
If ye cant come at bolder lays
Yowms tinder flame
Like this spank beaver crown o mine
Yer starting out is fresh & fine
But mortal things to time decline
Mark to your sorrow
How ere today yer light may shine
Its out tomorrow
Yer starting out is fresh & fine
But mortal things to time decline
Mark to your sorrow
How ere today yer light may shine
Its out tomorrow
So put yer mettle to the rout
& wind some glorious tale about
Leave milking wenches ballads out
For things more clever
Think yere too high for ploughing lout
& cock yer beaver
& wind some glorious tale about
Leave milking wenches ballads out
For things more clever
Think yere too high for ploughing lout
& cock yer beaver
Doubtless yeve got some vile intent
To leave me for some scribbling ghent
Wi grammers tinsel ornament
Profusley taen
& on such jelting finery bent
Poor me disdain
To leave me for some scribbling ghent
Wi grammers tinsel ornament
Profusley taen
& on such jelting finery bent
Poor me disdain
L---d helps Id take it mighty hard
When a'ter all this fusst regard
& all this promisd great reward
How yed protect me
To stilt me up a rustic bard
& then neglect me
When a'ter all this fusst regard
& all this promisd great reward
How yed protect me
To stilt me up a rustic bard
& then neglect me
Ye sur 'ts a fernal provocation
To bid me strut above my station
& jump my name about the nation
& then go leave me
& preach me oer a fine oration
Just to decieve me
To bid me strut above my station
& jump my name about the nation
& then go leave me
& preach me oer a fine oration
Just to decieve me
207
If thats the scheme yeve in yer head
The L---d forbid yell be my dead
My goose quill trembles now wi dread
As Id a tartern
O chatterton I dread I dread
To meet thy fortune
The L---d forbid yell be my dead
My goose quill trembles now wi dread
As Id a tartern
O chatterton I dread I dread
To meet thy fortune
A jackdaw on a weather fane
Wi borrowd primpt wings hither taen
Yeve pinacled yer 'xalted swain
For crows to peck
These critic crows a quawking train
Theyll brake his neck
Wi borrowd primpt wings hither taen
Yeve pinacled yer 'xalted swain
For crows to peck
These critic crows a quawking train
Theyll brake his neck
| The early poems of John Clare | |