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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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ROBS TERRORS OF NIGHT OR COURTING ON ASS BACK (a)
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ROBS TERRORS OF NIGHT OR COURTING ON ASS BACK (a)

A Gossips Story

What time the woodlands hides the sun
& nathans dirty works near done
When cows are drovd to milking up
& hogs are calld on swill to sup
& nogs of hay on ploughmens backs
Tempt horses to their nightly racks
& beast which nought but want can draw
Lunge brousing round their cribs of straw
What time gen out the threshing clown
Wi in his corner drops him down
& sups him oer his porridge free
& gossips chattering oer their tea

257

Town news—& tales which night inspires
Of waking ghosts & burnt arse fires
Till each her neighbour dismal scares
& alls fit swooning in their chairs
When brats the while a listning near
Will even piss their breeks wi fear
Each cringing round as stills a mouse
When cats threat breaking in his house
How ere descriptive things to leave
& plainly tell the fact twas eve
At autumn time years cag mag end
Grown bad & got too old to mend
When every slough its flood brims oer
& cloudy skys hang threatning more
When cart ruts brag their hasty tide
Loud wimpering by the causey side
& foams & blurs wis much ado
As floods that wimple summer thro
Now for the subject of the tale
A humble ploughman in the dale
Rob was his name & this the night
Hed pland to see his hearts delight
A milk wench she wi blood red face
& big round bosom full of grace
(In robins eye) her cheeks & that
Not beautys marks were dimpt wi fat
& shed good legs & large red arms
& all that ploughmen reckon charms
& her was rob so fully bent on
He even lovd the ground she went on
Tho distant from him many a furlong
& floods between were dangers hurling

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But fire or flood made little matter
True love will hazard fire & water
Tho dandld up a cads wi's granny
Whose storeys made him a'most scranny
Dreading the terrors night unravels
As bads a cath'lic dreads the devils
'Leaving the horrors of her lectures
As trues a christian does the scriptures
Who preacht him sermons upon witches
How theyd ride out a nights on switches
O whychen wood & willow wicks
On brushes & on beesome sticks
How theyd transform to L---d knows what
T[o] crowing hen or spit fire cat
& scare night trampers most to death
In lonsome ways of wood & heath
Bobbing from bushes unawares
& crossing lanes in form of hares
But spite of all fates will be done
His love still burning urgd him on
What ere befell or good or harm
Hed promisd & he must perform
So ‘ned’ he mounts & made a starting
No soul coud dot a foot twas certain
He switchd his stick & left his cot
Tho friends contrary 'visd him not
& a'ter wards he often wisht it
Hed taen their cautions & desisted

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Repent he did he ever went it
L---d knows he[d] reason to repent it
But keeping pace wi rob & neddy
Theyd now lost sight of town already
Plodding dark lanes & lonley ridings
Where rob oft heard heart aching tidings
The spots his granny usd to talk on
Witches being seen & spirits walking
Bringing this story up & that up
Tills very hair e'en bore his hat up
Journying on he might repent
But love burnt still & on he went
Some time thro foresteads belly deep
Then a'most mird thro sloughs they creep
While rob oft stands in need to borrow
Old balams stick to thresh him thorow
Far distant lay the destind place
& wonderous slow was neddys pace
Night soon oer took em—darkness spread
As blacks the hat upon his head
Oer stones unseen they often stumbld
Rob threst 'agen & sorely grumbld
Tho sticks but ill his pace did suit
Wi out a spur upon his foot
Robin got a'most off his wits
& swore & thresht the ass by fits
& thought as night hid tree & hill
The beasts slow pace got slower still
The winds their wispering terrors blowd
The quaking trees flapt oer the road
& hanging brambles oft woud pat
Their scrambling tendrils on his hat

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His heart the while as tho it where
Sunk even in his shoes wi fear
The moon by times thro clouds woud glisten
& he woud snatch a look & listen
Still keeping on his dreadful rout
An open eye for looking out
To scape a sudden sly attack
Hed now squint fore then hind his back
Still uppermost as like a spell
The things his granny usd to tell
Tho hed a feign his tales forgot
When ere a passd a haunted spot
& goodly things woud think & say
To put the evil ones away
But spite of prayers—prayers coudnt stop
Like fishers floats they float a top
Nor coud he for his soul the night
Help bringing witches in his sight
Painted on fancys moulding eye
On brush or beesom riding bye
A wild heath now they trampld oer
& slower seemly crept & slower
Most dreadful scene the clock went one
& went again he counted on
Snail creeping brute twas much as ten
Poor neddys hide went tot agen
The 'pointed time was over shot
& long way still from meggys cot
The wearied maid woud bolt the door
Nor wait him nor expect him more
& what was worse as absence breeds
Quere jealousys in wenches heads

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She might go think till more she heard
Some wench before her was preferd
& her till now he did but flatter
So turn him off to mend the matter
As wells his way too loose his lass
& all ont thro the creeping ass
Thus many a thought disturbd his brain
& poor old ned was lumpt again
—& now begins the tale its terrors
Its substance subject & its horrors
Rob scarce had gen the ass his dressing
& more by word o' mouth expressing
If he pleasd not to shamble faster
When lo up starts the black dissaster
Som'at rusht out wi hellish bustle
& crossd the dark road rustle rustle
As matted grass & leaves & stuff
Wir wisking in a windy puff
The fernal rout it made bespoke
Twas plain enough the devils work
No wonder at it donk took fright
& tho rob hung wi all his might
To save him sen from tumbling down
Twas all no use bump fell the clown
Ah-lack-a days-ont whats the use
When foxes come the hissing goose
Their gabbling bids as much defiance
As kidlings bleetings do wi lions
The like was robins every wit
When fiends unassd him trying to sit
The moon tween clouds just then did wink
& rob got on the thing a blink

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But what or in what form exact
He coudnt gi as plainly fact
But good betide him sure enough
Hells nearness gave infernal proof
He saw too plain—woe to his breeches
Twas on[e] o grans night walking witches
Ye may ha seen old women swoon
When night rogues prowl the streets for fun
Wi turnip lanthern scoopt & cut
In shape of human face or brute
Wi grinning chops woud make one quake
An uglier grin deaths foild to make
Ye may ha heard her piteous case
Just as they popt it in her face
Her wail of woe her mercy shout
From fancyd hell to help her out
Ye may ha heard all this but then
Twant like the shouts which robin gen
Her case wi his compard forsooth
Are flee bites to a serpents tooth
Twas small use in his piteous plight
To shout for help on heaths at night
To make the worst ont weep & wail
& call when none coud hear his tale
Besure he shouted loud & shouted
As if all nights hell brood were routed
But a'ter donkey twas he sallied
& threats on threatnings stoutly rallied
As how hed wack him coud he find him
& all the while but done to mind 'em
The wizzend rogues & wrinkled bitches
His valour didnt care for witches

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To make em 'lieve his stick was ready
To serve 'em as he threatnd neddy
To show what courage were his guard
& scare if witches coud be scard
When the same time the tottering clown
A very straw'd a knockd him down
As Ive oft markt the youngster wight
To keep his courage up at night
Woud mock the owls & creep along
& tutle oer the night birds song
& all the while he woops & whistles
His fears een swoon at quaking thistles
So twas wi rob his brags & boasting
As while neds ribs he threats a roasting
His very heart blood twitter twatter
Curdld as cold as fountain water
He thought his prayers but durst not say em
For fear his weakness might betray him
As fiends to hear him help appeal
Woud know wi whom they had to deal
While him to whom the prayers preferd
As plains a shout a wisper heard
His quaking hopes vowd twere his lot
To see once more his native cot
Woud good beings give him leave once more
To lift the latch o's grannys door
Never while hed a single peg
(That is he meant while hed a leg)
Neds back no more woud he get on
For all his eyes ere lookd upon

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Nor be so longs his name was rob
Took in wi such another job
No was the roads a*se deep in sludge
Then mount such brutes hed sooner trudge
But as his reason gaind agen
& he as't were got more his sen
So's near to over set the fright
He gun to plan as wells he might
Some sort a guard for time to come
A thought that instant struck him home
For trying on[e] o's grannys spells
That spite of witch or ghost repells
He heard her score times testify it
Who warnd him late to sure & try it
That is wi open knife to point
Ye then may walk as safes a saint
So gran had sed—& instant rob
Pulls out his dagger from his fob
& went wi't open in his clutch
To see if now they dare him touch
& even in his saftey joyd
To think that hell was thus defyd
While muck & sludge his clohs bedapples
While lost his ass & lost his apples
For he upon the donkeys pad
A wallet full of apples had
A present for the maid to boot
To show his love & urge his suit
But all was lost he mutterd sore
& curst the donkey oer & oer
& even meg so vext he wer
Hed ha[r]d work keep from busing her

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So now unassd thro swamps & sloughs
He trys agen for maggys house
But as a blind man stumps along
Twas all by guess work right or wrong
& being so startled wis affright
Wi fancys terrors still in sight
He card not much weres journey led him
If aught was found to hide his head in
Far from the lone heaths dark domains
The scarce seen tracks & narrow lanes
Crossing deep pits oer slippery planks
Where jenny burnt arse plays her pranks
Dangerd as trampers creep & creep
By then being tumbld i' the deep
As oft death bells at morn doth sound
Sad tidings who at night were drownd
Ah coud he drop but safley down
Or near a house or in a town
Or barn straw bed or stable manger
He card not where if out of danger
But no such joys as yet succeed
He went as providence decreed
Oer green sward close & mauling fields
Still fanc[y]ing witches at his heels
That made him terrible of course
Tho they coud foul his breeks no worse
Nor fall upon him unprepard
As still his opd knife kept his guard
But they coud fright him wi their terrors
& seize him gen wi russ'ling horrors

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From hedgerow bush or dyke to skout
Or holes of tunnels bobble out
How ere to make the tale conclude
As happy as a story shoud
Suffice it a'ter many a trouble
Which night sowd in his journey double
He found tos joy his fears was oer
& dropt at last on maggys door
Who luck'ly list'ning on the watch
As soons his thumb tinkt up the latch
Appeard wi sweetest smiles agen
Sure antidote for all his pain
& welcomd in her wandering love
As at the even does the dove
Wi cooing fuss & billing kiss
Rob hitchd his chair up near his bliss
& hugd & blesst the charming cre'ture
No soul coud wish to do no better
She told him all the fear & dread
As while she waited filld her head
The night so dark the floods being out
& he so late it made her doubt
While oer her cot an owlet flew
& screamd a death note often true
‘Besure’ say[s] she ‘it frit one so
‘I scarce knew where or how to go
‘I turnd as cold as ice wi fear
‘& scarce kept tumbling out my chair’
—Ah there! thought rob depend upon it
Sures mines a hat & her'ns a bonnet

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That very owl that here did hoot
Was safe enough a fernal brute
& one of these wi out a doubt
That put my donk & me to rout
Then he slung back agen the wall
& strokd his chin & telld her all
Till twilights eye of rosey light
Had lookd away the fears of night
& the sweet smiles of morns red sun
Made every evil thing to run
Following fast as night hell leads
To hide & act fresh evil deeds
Rob leaving free his home to find
Wi out one dread upon his mind
& now all this is come to pass
Theres [s]ome may hint—& wheres the ass
To ned besure small harm befell
He lit ons legs for doing well
If donk had felt a present dread
Fancy neer kept it in his head
He rambld over hedge & ditch
Wi small conscern bout rob or witch
& hit at last a lucky track
That led him to a clover stack
Where soundly he blowd out his hide
Wi night & darkness on his side
& then as dainteer stomach led
Pickt & pickt the sweetest head
The clover bottles honied flower
He never met a sweeter hour

268

Set free from robins sticks & strife
He neer felt happier in his life
& as he knew no better doing
He little felt inclind for going
But stopt till cursed cocks had shouted
& scores of foes to donkeys routed
Shepherds & ploughmen all unhousd
& pindard plunderers early rousd
Like lawer skouts their prey pursuing
That luckless catchd him tresspas doing
& drove him from his plenty found
A thief as law directs to pound
To stand till he was ownd again
—& here ned saw but little pain
Tho he had neer a stack to pull
He wanted none his guts was full
& while theyre thus donks sees no sorrow
Their thoughts neer reach so highs tomorrow
Thus ends the tale the wondrous travels
Of rob thro midnights brooded devils
& while it caution gis the swain
Never to tempt the like again
Let other chaps consider well
Who hear the tale the tricks of hell
& when theyve courting in their heads
Never to trust their lives wi neds
But al'ays when theyd see their lasses
Tramp it on foot wi out their asses