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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BALLAD
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
BALLAD
[Jenny my darling this instant awaken]
Jenny my darling this instant awaken
The gales long ago the long grasses have shaken
& long from their beds have these posies bin taken
Theyll dye ere theyre pind to thy breast
All all they gay lass[es] their dresses are showing
& off to the fair wi their sweet hearts are going
For two or three hours ha' the cocks bin a crowing
Why coudnt ye rise wi the rest
The gales long ago the long grasses have shaken
& long from their beds have these posies bin taken
Theyll dye ere theyre pind to thy breast
All all they gay lass[es] their dresses are showing
& off to the fair wi their sweet hearts are going
For two or three hours ha' the cocks bin a crowing
Why coudnt ye rise wi the rest
What still are ye sleeping—then sleep till yr weary
The loss of your presence shall neer make me dreary
Heres rosey facd peggy so airy & cheery
Love neednt lye out of repair
& why shoudnt she be as good as fine Jenny
Tho she cannot boast of fine rags like a many
Her cheeks are as red & her eyes bright as any
So peg heres my arm for the fair
The loss of your presence shall neer make me dreary
Heres rosey facd peggy so airy & cheery
Love neednt lye out of repair
& why shoudnt she be as good as fine Jenny
Tho she cannot boast of fine rags like a many
Her cheeks are as red & her eyes bright as any
So peg heres my arm for the fair
O stay sandy stay Ill be down in a minute
My gowns on already Ive just but to pin it
A good-for-nought dream all this while Ive bin in it
I neer heard ye call I declare
Ah jane yr too late look ye ever so handy
Ive found out a new love like sweet sugar candey
Yell know the next time how to deal wi your sandy
& not lye to dream at a fair
My gowns on already Ive just but to pin it
A good-for-nought dream all this while Ive bin in it
I neer heard ye call I declare
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Ive found out a new love like sweet sugar candey
Yell know the next time how to deal wi your sandy
& not lye to dream at a fair
| The early poems of John Clare | |