The later poems of John Clare 1837-1864 ... General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
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MARY THE MAID O' THE PLOUGH |
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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
MARY THE MAID O' THE PLOUGH
My bonny young Mary the maid o' the plough I feel such a something I cannot tell how
The flowers i' the grass and the leafs on the bough And its a for young Mary the maid o' the plough
O she is my wee thing my lone thing my ain thing For white is the blossom upo' the thorn bough
Down the green rutty lane where the dog roses hing I courted young Mary the maid O' the plough
The flowers i' the grass and the leafs on the bough And its a for young Mary the maid o' the plough
O she is my wee thing my lone thing my ain thing For white is the blossom upo' the thorn bough
Down the green rutty lane where the dog roses hing I courted young Mary the maid O' the plough
My ain bonny Mary the maid o' the plough I feel O' so commical can you tell me how
A itch aching something the bird on the bough Sings songs unto Mary the maid O the plough
Who makes me so queer and I cannot tell how She's the wee thing the fond thing the young thing my ain thing
The sweetest of roses that bloomed on the bough Is sweet blooming Mary the maid o the plough
A itch aching something the bird on the bough Sings songs unto Mary the maid O the plough
767
The sweetest of roses that bloomed on the bough Is sweet blooming Mary the maid o the plough
O' sweet as the hedge rose the maid O the plough O sweet as the cowslip beside the red cow
A comical something I cannot tell how And its a for young Mary the maid o the plough
And Mary's my wee thing my fond thing my ain thing And Mary's my rose bud that bluims [on] the hedge bough
A lilly more white than the sheets she has lain in My young bonny Mary the maid O the plough
A comical something I cannot tell how And its a for young Mary the maid o the plough
And Mary's my wee thing my fond thing my ain thing And Mary's my rose bud that bluims [on] the hedge bough
A lilly more white than the sheets she has lain in My young bonny Mary the maid O the plough
| The later poems of John Clare | |