The later poems of John Clare 1837-1864 ... General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
 | I. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 1. |
| II. |
|
IN GREEN GRASSY PLACES |
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 17. |
| 18. |
| 19. |
| 20. |
| 21. |
| 22. |
| 23. |
| 24. |
| 25. |
| 26. |
| 27. |
| 28. |
| 29. |
| 30. |
| 31. |
| 32. |
 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
841
IN GREEN GRASSY PLACES
In the white thorn hedges the blackbird sings
Where the hedgesparrow flutters his dirty brown wings
And the skylark he trembles above the green wheat
While the thrush in the spinny is singing so sweet
So come lovely Susan we'll walk i' the fields
And meet all the pleasures the lovely spring yields
For of all the gay lasses sweet Susan I see
There's none that I fancy my sweetheart but thee
Where the hedgesparrow flutters his dirty brown wings
And the skylark he trembles above the green wheat
While the thrush in the spinny is singing so sweet
So come lovely Susan we'll walk i' the fields
And meet all the pleasures the lovely spring yields
For of all the gay lasses sweet Susan I see
There's none that I fancy my sweetheart but thee
So come my dear Susan and where the thrush sings
The primrose and violets the earliest springs
The Chaffinch is building his nest on the brere
And the bottle tit hangs up his pudding bag near
I' the ribs o the hedge the hedgesparrow builds
And the brown o' his feathers the morning sun gilds
I long my dear Susan to walk out wi thee
In green grassy places thy sweetheart to be
The primrose and violets the earliest springs
The Chaffinch is building his nest on the brere
And the bottle tit hangs up his pudding bag near
I' the ribs o the hedge the hedgesparrow builds
And the brown o' his feathers the morning sun gilds
I long my dear Susan to walk out wi thee
In green grassy places thy sweetheart to be
We'll walk where the barley is hiding the clod
We'll walk where the daisy blooms stars on the sod
Where the Herrinshaw builds in the flags by the streams
There Susan we'll loiter in green summer dreams
By the side o' the river running like glass
We'll seek early cowslips that quake i' the grass
And there bonny Susan I'll love you so true
And kiss you and court you and ne'er bid adieu
We'll walk where the daisy blooms stars on the sod
Where the Herrinshaw builds in the flags by the streams
There Susan we'll loiter in green summer dreams
By the side o' the river running like glass
We'll seek early cowslips that quake i' the grass
And there bonny Susan I'll love you so true
And kiss you and court you and ne'er bid adieu
| The later poems of John Clare | |