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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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TO THE CLOUDS

O painted clouds sweet beauties of the skye
How have I viewd your motion & your rest
When like fleet hunters ye have left mine eye
In your thin gause of wooly fleecing drest
Or in your threatend thunders grim black vest
Like black deep waters slowly moving bye
Awfully striking the spectators breast
With your creators dread sublimity
As admiration mutley views your storms
& I do love to see you idly lye
Painted by heaven varied as your forms
Pausing upon the eastern mountain high

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As morn awakes in springs wood harmony
& sweeter still when in your slumbers sooth
You hang the western arch oer days proud eye
Still as the even pool uncurvd & smooth
My gazing soul has lookd most placidly
& higher still devoutly wishd to strain
To wipe your shrouds & skyes blue blinders bye
Wi all the warmness of a moon struck brain
To catch a glimpse of him who bids you reign
& view the dwelling of all majesty