The early poems of John Clare :: :: University of Virginia Library

The beating snow clad bell wi sounding dead
Hath clanked four—the woodmans wakd agen
& as he leaves his comfortable bed
Dithers to view the ryhmey featherd pane
& shrugs & wishes—but its all in vain
The beds warm comforts he must now forgo
His family that oft till eight hath lain
Wi out his labours wage coud not do so
& glad to make them blest he shoffles thro the snow

288

The early winters morns as dark as pitch
The warey wife keeps tinder every night
Wi flint & steal & many a sturdy twitch
Sits up in bed to strike her man a light
& as the candle shows the rapturous sight
Aside his wife his rosey sleeping boy
He smacks his lips wi exquisite delight
Wi all a fathers feelings fathers joy
Then bids his wife good bye & hies to his employ

His br[e]akfast water porridge humble food
A barley crust he in his wallet flings
Wi this he toils & labours i' the wood
& chops his faggot twists his band & sings
As happily as princes & as kings
Wi all their luxury—& blest is he
Can but the little which his labour brings
Make both ends meet & from long debts keep free
& keep as neat & clean his creasing family

Far oer the dreary fields the woodland lies
Rough is the journey which he daily goes
The wooley clouds that hang the frowning skies
Keep winnowing down their drifting sleet & snows

289

& thro his doublet keen the north wind blows
While hard as iron the cemented ground
& smooth as glass the glibbed pool is froze
His nailed boots wi clenching tread rebound
& dithering echo starts & mocks the clamping sound

The woods how gloomy in a winters morn
The crows & ravens even cease to croak
The little birds sit chittering on the thorn
The pies scarce chatter when the[y] leave the oak
Startld from slumber by the woodmans stroke
The milk maids songs is drownd in gloomy care
& while the village chimleys curl their smoke
She milks & blows & hastens to be there
& nature all seems sad & dying in despair

The squirking rabbit scarcly leaves her hole
But rolls in torpid slumbers all the day
The fox is loath to gin a long patrole
& scouts the woods content wi meaner prey
The hare so frisking timid once & gay
Hind the dead thistle hurkles from the view
No[r] scarcly scard tho in the travellers way
Tho waffling curs & shepherd dogs pursue
So winters riggid power affects all nature through

290

What different changes winters frowns supplies
The clown no more a loitering hour beguiles
Nor gauping tracks the clouds along the skyes
As when buds blossom & the warm sun smiles
When la[w]rence wages bids on hills & stiles
Banks stiles & flowers & skyes no longer charm
Deep snow & ice each summer seat defiles
Wi hasty blundering step & folded arm
He glad the stable seeks his frost nipt nose to warm

The shepherd seeks no more his spreading oak
Nor on the sloping pond head lyes at lare
The arbour he once wattld up is broke
& left unworthy of his future care
The ragged plundering stickers have bin there
& bottld it away—he passes bye
His summer dwelling desolate & bare
& neer so much as turns a 'serning eye
But gladly seeks his fire & leaves the 'clement skye

The scenes all clothd in snow from morn till night
The woodmans loath his chilly tools to sieze
The crows unroosting as he comes in sight
Shake down the feathery burthen from the trees

291

To look at things around hes fit to freeze
Scard from her pearch the fluttering pheasant flies
His coat & hat wi ryhme is turned white
He quakes looks round & pats his hands & sighs
& wishes to him self that the warm sun woud rise

& be the winter cutting as it will
Let north winds winnow fit to nip one through
In the deep woods hard fate demands him still
To stand the bitterest blasts that ever blew
Where trees instead of leaves & pearly dew
In ryhme & snow & Iscicles abound
The proverb ‘use is second natures’ true
It must be so or how coud he be found
To weather out the blast & daily stand his ground

& yet tho fortune frowns upon the poor
& dooms their life to slavish hard employ
Tho wealth forever gainst em shuts her door
& strives their fainting wishes to destroy
Yet still poor souls they have a glimpse of joy
A sugard charm still sweets the sours of fate
His sparing bliss when met does never cloy
While over much does paul the idly great
As rich & sumptious foods does surfeitings create

Good luck it is his providential wealth
That hardy labour & the freshing air
Shoud 'crease his strength & keep entire his health
& neer let illness on his soul despair

292

Wi wife & childern pending on his care
What woud he do a livlihood to gain
The parish moneys but a pining fare
Such scouts benevolence he does disdain
Who grudges what they give & mocks the poor mans pain

But if unwell from toil hes forcd to stop
He quickly then repairs to medcines aid
Tho not to nauciates of the druggists shop
Or cant advice of docters mystic trade
But to such drugs as daily are displayd
Een round his walks & cottage door profuse
‘Self heal’ & ‘agrimony’ which has made
Full many an huswife wonderous cures produce
These he in summer seeks & hurds up for his use

The robin tamest of the featherd race
Soon as he hears the woodmans sounding chops
Wi ruddy bosom & a simple face
Around his old companions feet he hops
& there for hours in pleasd attention stops
The woodmans heart is tender & humane
& at his meals he many a crumble drops
Thanks to thy generous feelings gentle swain
& what thy pity gives shall not be gave in vain

The woodman pleased views the closing day
To see the sun drop down behind the wood
Sinking in clouds deep blue or misty grey
Round as a football & as red as blood

293

The pleasing prospect does his heart much good
Tho tis not his such beautys to admire
He hastes to fill his bags wi billet wood
Well pleasd from the chill prospect to retire
To seek his corner chair & warm snug cottage fire

& soon the dusky even hovers round
& the white frost gins crizzle pond & brook
The little family are squinting round
& from the door dart many a wistful look
The suppers ready stewing on the hook
& every foot that clampers down the street
Is for the coming fathers step mistook
& joyd are they when he their eyes does meet
Bent neath his load snow clad as whites a sheet

I think I see him seated in his chair
Taking the bellows up the fire to blow
I think I hear him joke & chatter there
Telling his childern news they wish to know
Wi leather leggings on that stopt the snow
His broad brimd hat uncoothly shapen round
Nor woud he Ill be bound woud it were so
Gi two pence for the chance did it abound
At that same hour to be the king of england crownd

Soons suppers down the thrifty wife seeks out
Her little jobs of family conserns
Chiding her childern rabbling about
Says they'll 'stroy more then what their father earns

294

& their torn clohs she bodges up & darns
For desent women cannot bear the sight
Of dirty houses & of ragged ba[i]rns
Tis their employment & their chief delight
To keep their cots & childern neat & tight

The woodman smokes the brats in mirth & glee
& artless prattle evens hours beguile
While loves last pledge runs scrambling up his knee
The nightly comfort from his weary toil
His chuff cheeks dimpling in a fondling smile
He claims his kiss & says his scraps of prayer
Begging his daddys pretty song the while
Playing wis jacket buttons & his hair
& thus in wed locks joys the labourer drowns his care

Nor can one miss the bliss from labour freed
Which poor men meeteth on a Sunday morn
Fixt in a chair some godly book to read
Or wandering round to view the crops & corn
In best cloaths fitted out & beard new shorn
Dropping adown in some warm shelterd dell
Wi six days labour weak & weary worn
Listning around each distant chiming bell
That on the softening air melodiously doth swell

His pipe pufft out he edges in his chair
& stirs the embers up his hands to warm
& with his singing book he does repair
To humming oer an anthem hymn or psalm

295

Nor does he think a ballad any harm
But often carrols oer his cottage hearth
‘Bold robin hood’ the ‘Shipwreck’ or the ‘storm’
O where we find this social joy & mirth
There we may truly say a heaven exists on earth

The clock when eight warns all for bed prepare
The childern still an extra minute crave
& sawn & stammer longer oer their prayers
& they such tempting fond excuses have
The 'dulging father oft the boon has gave
& sung again the younkers to delight
While every hard earnd farden glad to save
The carfull wife puts out the candle light
& oer the fire the song & tale makes sweet the winters night

& as most lab'rers knowingly pretend
By certain signs to judge the weather right
As oft from ‘noahs ark’ great floods desend
& ‘burred moons’ fortell great storms at night
In such like things the wood man took delight
& ere he went to bed woud always ken
Wether the sky was gloomd or stars shone bright
Then went to comforts arms till morn & then
As cheery as the sunrise beams resumd his toils agen

296

& ere he slept he always breathd a prayer
‘I thank thee lord what thou to day didst give
‘Sufficient strength to toil I bless thy care
‘& thank thee still for what I may recieve
‘& o almighty god while I still live
‘My eyes if opend on the last days sun
‘Prepare thou me this wicked world to leave
‘& fit my passage ere my race is run
‘Tis all I beg o lord thy heavenly will be done’

Holland to thee this humble ballads sent
Thee who for poor mans well fare oft hath prayd
Whose tongue did neer belye its good intent
Preacher as well in practice as in trade
Alas too often moneys business made
O may the wretch thats still in darkness living
The bibles comforts hear by thee displayd
And many a woodmans family forgiven
Have cause for blessing thee that led their way for heaven