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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MY MARY |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
MY MARY
Who lives where Beggars rarley speed?
& leads a humdrum life indeed
As none beside herself would lead
My Mary
& leads a humdrum life indeed
As none beside herself would lead
My Mary
79
Who lives where noises never cease?
& what wi' hogs & ducks & geese
Can never have a minutes peace
My Mary
& what wi' hogs & ducks & geese
Can never have a minutes peace
My Mary
Who nearly battl'd to her chin
Bangs down the yard thro thick & thin?
Nor picks a road nor cares a pin
My Mary
Bangs down the yard thro thick & thin?
Nor picks a road nor cares a pin
My Mary
Who (save in sunday bib & tuck)
Goes daily (waddling like a duck)
Oer head & ears in grease & muck
My Mary
Goes daily (waddling like a duck)
Oer head & ears in grease & muck
My Mary
Unus'd to pattins or to clogs
Who takes the swill to serve the hogs?
And steals the milk for cats and dogs
My Mary
Who takes the swill to serve the hogs?
And steals the milk for cats and dogs
My Mary
Who frost & Snow as hard as nails
Stands out o' doors & never fails
To wash up things & scour the pails
My Mary
Stands out o' doors & never fails
To wash up things & scour the pails
My Mary
Who bussles night & day in short
At all catch jobs of every sort
& gains her mistress' favor for't
My Mary
At all catch jobs of every sort
& gains her mistress' favor for't
My Mary
80
& who is oft repaid wi praise?
In doing what her mistress says
& yielding to her wimmy ways
My Mary
In doing what her mistress says
& yielding to her wimmy ways
My Mary
For theres none apter I believe
At ‘creeping up a Mistress' sleve’
Then this low kindred stump of Eve
My Mary
At ‘creeping up a Mistress' sleve’
Then this low kindred stump of Eve
My Mary
Who when the baby's all besh—t
To please its mamma kisses it?
And vows no Rose on earths so sweet
My Mary
To please its mamma kisses it?
And vows no Rose on earths so sweet
My Mary
But when her Mistress is'n't nigh
Who swears & wishes it would die
& pinches it to make it cry
My Mary
Who swears & wishes it would die
& pinches it to make it cry
My Mary
O rank deceit! what soul could think—
But gently there revealing ink
—At faults of thine this friend must wink
My Mary
But gently there revealing ink
—At faults of thine this friend must wink
My Mary
Who (not without a ‘spark o' pride’
Tho strong as Grunters bristly hide)
Does keep her hair in papers ty'd?
My Mary
Tho strong as Grunters bristly hide)
Does keep her hair in papers ty'd?
My Mary
81
& mimicking the Gentry's way
Who strives to speak as fine as they?
& minds but every word they say
My Mary
Who strives to speak as fine as they?
& minds but every word they say
My Mary
& who (tho's well bid blind to see
As her to tell ye A from B)
Thinks herself none o' low degree?
My Mary
As her to tell ye A from B)
Thinks herself none o' low degree?
My Mary
Who prates & runs oer silly stuff?
& 'mong the boys makes sport enough
—So ugly, silly droll & ruff
My Mary
& 'mong the boys makes sport enough
—So ugly, silly droll & ruff
My Mary
Ugly! Muse fo' shame o' thee
What faults art thou a going to see?
In one thats lotted out to be
My Mary
What faults art thou a going to see?
In one thats lotted out to be
My Mary
But heedless sayings meaneth nought
Done Innoscent without a thought
We humbly ask thy pardon for't
My Mary
Done Innoscent without a thought
We humbly ask thy pardon for't
My Mary
Who low in Stature thick & fat
Turns brown from going without a hat?
Tho not a pin the worse for that
My Mary
Turns brown from going without a hat?
Tho not a pin the worse for that
My Mary
82
Who's laugh'd at too by every whelp
For failings which they cannot help?
But silly fools will laugh & chelp
My Mary
For failings which they cannot help?
But silly fools will laugh & chelp
My Mary
For tho in stature mighty small
& near as thick as thou art tall
That hand made thee that made us all
My Mary
& near as thick as thou art tall
That hand made thee that made us all
My Mary
& tho thy nose hooks down too much
& prophecies thy chin to touch
I'm not so nice to look at such
My Mary
& prophecies thy chin to touch
I'm not so nice to look at such
My Mary
No no about thy nose & chin
Its hooking out or bending in
I never heed nor care a pin
My Mary
Its hooking out or bending in
I never heed nor care a pin
My Mary
& tho thy skin is brown & ruff
& form'd by nature hard & tuff
All suiteth me! so thats enough
My Mary
& form'd by nature hard & tuff
All suiteth me! so thats enough
My Mary
| The early poems of John Clare | |