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

In lifes first years as on a mothers breast
When nature nursd me in her flowery pride
I culld her bounty such as seemed best
& made my garlands by some hedgrow side
With pleasing eagerness the mind reclaims
From black oblivions shroud such artless scenes
& cons the calender of childish names
With simple joy when manhood intervenes

From the sweet time that springs young joys are born
& golden catkins deck the sallow tree
Till summers blue caps blossom mid the corn
& autumns rag wort yellows oer the lea

410

I roamd the fields about a happy child
& bound my posies up with rushey ties
& laughd & mutterd oer my visions wild
Bred in the brain of pleasures extasies

Crimp frilled daisey bright bronze butter cup
Freckt cows lip peeps gilt wins of mornings dew
& hooded aron early sprouting up
Ere the white thorn bud half unfolds to view
Wi eager joy each filld my playfull hand
& wan hued Lady smocks that love to spring
'Side the swamp margin of some plashy pond
With all the blooms that early aprils bring

The jaundice'd tincturd primrose sickly sere
Mid its broad curdl'd leaves of mellow green
Hemmd in with relics of the parted year
The mournfull wrecks of summers that has been
Dead leaves of ash & oak & hazel tree
The constant covering of all woody land
With tiney vi'lets creeping plentiously
That one by one enticd my patient hand

As shadowy aprils suns & showers did pass
& summers wild profusions plentious grew
Hiding the spring flowers in long weeds & grass
What meads & copses woud I wander through
When on the waters op'd the lily buds
& fine long purples shadowd in the lake
When pu[r]ple bugles peeped in the woods
Neath darkest shades that boughs & leaves coud make

411

Then did I wear days many hours away
In gathering blooms of seemly sweetest kinds
Scrambling for blossoms of the white thorn may
Ere they fell victims to unfeeling winds
& twisting woodbines & the flusht briar rose
How sweet remembrance on the mind doth rise
As they bowd arching were the runnel flows
To think how oft I waded for the prize

The ragged robins by the spinney lake
& flag flower bunches deeper down the flood
& snugly hiding neath the featherd brake
Full many a blue bell found & cuckoo bud
& old mans beard that wreathd along the hedge
Their odly rude mishapen tawney flowers
& prickly burs that crowd the leaves of sedge
That claimd my pleasing search for hours & hours

& down the hay fields wading above the knees
Thro seas of waving grass what days Ive gone
Cheating the hopes of many labouring bees
By cropping blossoms they were perchd upon
As thyme along the hills & lambtoe notts
& the wild stauking canterbury bell
By hedgrow side or bushy bo[r]dering spots
That loves in shade & solitude to dwell

412

& when the summers swarms half namless fled
& autumns landscape faded bleak & wild
When leaves gun fall & show their berries red
Still with the season woud I be beguild
Lone spots to seek home leaving far behind
Were wildness rears her lings & teazle burs
& were last lingering of the flowery kind
Blue heath bells tremble neath the sheltering furze

Sweet was such walks on the half barren wild
Which ploughs leave quiet with their briars & brakes
Prospects of freedom pleasing from a child
To track the crookd pad which the rabbit makes
On these past times one loves to look behind
Nor lives a soul, mere trifles as they be
But feels a joy in bringing to his mind
The wild flower rambles of his infancy

Tis sweet to view as in a favourd book
Lifes rude beginning page long turned oer
Tis natures common feeling back to look
On things that pleasd us when they are no more
Pausing on childish scenes a wishd repeat
Seeming more sweet to value when we're men
As on[e] awakend from a vision sweet
Wishes to sleep & dream it oer agen