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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[Lord hear my prayer when trouble glooms] |
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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
[Lord hear my prayer when trouble glooms]
Lord hear my prayer when trouble glooms
Let sorrow find a way
& when the day of trouble comes
Turn not thy face away
My bones like hearth stones burn away
My life like vapoury smoke decays
Let sorrow find a way
& when the day of trouble comes
Turn not thy face away
My bones like hearth stones burn away
My life like vapoury smoke decays
My heart is smitten like the grass
That withered lies & dead
& I so lost to what I was
Forget to eat my bread
My voice is groaning all the day
My bones prick through this skin of clay
That withered lies & dead
& I so lost to what I was
Forget to eat my bread
My voice is groaning all the day
My bones prick through this skin of clay
The wildernesses pelican
The deserts lonely owl
I am their like a desert man
In ways as lone & foul
As sparrows on the cottage top
I wait till I with faintness drop
The deserts lonely owl
I am their like a desert man
In ways as lone & foul
As sparrows on the cottage top
I wait till I with faintness drop
138
I bear my enemies reproach
All silently I mourn
They on my private peace encroach
Against me they are sworn
Ashes as bread my trouble shares
& mix my food with weeping cares
All silently I mourn
They on my private peace encroach
Against me they are sworn
Ashes as bread my trouble shares
& mix my food with weeping cares
Yet not for them is sorrows toil
I fear no mortals frown
But thou hast held me up awhile
& thou hast cast me down
My days like shadows waste from view
I mourn like withered grass in dew
I fear no mortals frown
But thou hast held me up awhile
& thou hast cast me down
My days like shadows waste from view
I mourn like withered grass in dew
But thou Lord shalt endure forever
All generations through
Thou shalt to Zion be the giver
Of joy & mercey too
Her very stones are in their trust
Thy servants reverence her dust
All generations through
Thou shalt to Zion be the giver
Of joy & mercey too
Her very stones are in their trust
Thy servants reverence her dust
Heathens shall hear & fear thy name
All kings of earth thy glory know
When thou shalt build up Zions fame
& live in glory there below
He'll not despise their prayers though mute
But still regard the destitute
All kings of earth thy glory know
When thou shalt build up Zions fame
& live in glory there below
He'll not despise their prayers though mute
But still regard the destitute
| The later poems of John Clare | |