 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
182
THE CALM
Beneath my feet the very dust
Up with the wirlwinds summonds flies
To tell the doubting & the just
That even dust shall greet the skys
Beside my path the flowers & grass
In trembling joy their praises pay
Yet unobserving man goes bye
Nor gleans a lesson in his way
Up with the wirlwinds summonds flies
To tell the doubting & the just
That even dust shall greet the skys
Beside my path the flowers & grass
In trembling joy their praises pay
Yet unobserving man goes bye
Nor gleans a lesson in his way
Though nature breaths in quiet moods
& wooes the heart in gentle ways
A sterner power with time intrudes
Shall waken all to fear & praise
When death shall rise on every eye
& blend his voice with every call
When all but natures debt shall die
& man the debtor pay for all
& wooes the heart in gentle ways
A sterner power with time intrudes
Shall waken all to fear & praise
When death shall rise on every eye
& blend his voice with every call
When all but natures debt shall die
& man the debtor pay for all
That day shall come & mighty storms
Each year its coming typifyes
Yet what are thunders dread alarms
To that shall bid the dead to rise
The wind the water fire & all
As actors in that dreadful play
Make ready in their parts to fall
Rehearsing portions every day
Each year its coming typifyes
Yet what are thunders dread alarms
To that shall bid the dead to rise
The wind the water fire & all
As actors in that dreadful play
Make ready in their parts to fall
Rehearsing portions every day
Yet man ordained in every scene
To act the first & chiefest part
Neglects to feel the part he's in
Nor gets a single page by heart
Although the stage be worlds destroyed
The curtains torn unpillared skyes
The actor man by God employed
To do his part of smiles or sighs
Life everlastingly enjoyed
Or pains unceasing sacrifice
—& I by idle things employed
Dread what the finale typifyes
To act the first & chiefest part
Neglects to feel the part he's in
Nor gets a single page by heart
Although the stage be worlds destroyed
The curtains torn unpillared skyes
The actor man by God employed
To do his part of smiles or sighs
Life everlastingly enjoyed
Or pains unceasing sacrifice
—& I by idle things employed
Dread what the finale typifyes
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |