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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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432

[Blow on ye winds till yer breath it is broken]

Blow on ye winds till yer breath it is broken
Pelt down yer rains till yer fountains be dry
Wet to my skin thro my garments be soaken
Love for my nelly will trifles defy
Ive got the comfort to come when it shall come
Nellys sweet smiles will oer ballance the pain
Whose looks even speak ‘ye are heartily welcome’
Whose warm kisses prove it again & again
Sweet shall I sit where my nellys fire glimmers
While sings the gay cricket less happy then I
While frothing sap from each billets end simmers
Sweet shall I sit my wet garments to dry
Sweet shall I sit when the precious hour shall come
When one chair is holding my nelly & I
Whose looks even wisper ‘yer heartily welcome
O sweet shall I sit my wet garments to dry’