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The Poems of John Clare

Edited with an Introduction by J. W. Tibble

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540

MORNING

The morning now right earlily in dew
Bathed her sweet naked limbs of fairest hue,
While like a veil all careless thrown aback
On her white shoulders hung her hair so black;
And when the sun a minute earlier rose
The lovely morning sought her cloudy clothes,
But finding none she hasting shrank away;
For night abashed had startled into day.

541

The sun reigned absolute in cloudless sky
And wooed morn's timid beauty to comply,
And scarlet as the dress she earlier wore
Her white face turned that was so fair before;
While fear in every limb diffused its charms
As soft she sighed and melted in his arms.