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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| b. | WINTER (b)
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
692
WINTER (b)
From huddling nights embrace how chill
The winter waking days begin
Dull reddening oer the easts blea hill
& creeping sad & shyly in
Now gilds the sun each bare tree top
& pale peeps thro each window light
While from the eaves the icles drop
That eke afresh their tales at night
The winter waking days begin
Dull reddening oer the easts blea hill
& creeping sad & shyly in
Now gilds the sun each bare tree top
& pale peeps thro each window light
While from the eaves the icles drop
That eke afresh their tales at night
The street is throngd with bawling boys
Who pat their reddend fingers warm
& eager of their dithering joys
Unheeding brave each pelting storm
To roll their jiant forms of snow
Or slide or seeking rude repast
Hirp[l]ing by hedges were the slow
Hangs mellowd by the biting blast
Who pat their reddend fingers warm
& eager of their dithering joys
Unheeding brave each pelting storm
To roll their jiant forms of snow
Or slide or seeking rude repast
Hirp[l]ing by hedges were the slow
Hangs mellowd by the biting blast
693
The noons thawd snow that stiffens soon to ice
Makes glib each path the swaley street between
Were stepping maidens tho with caution nice
Oft meets a fall & reddens to be seen
While bustling clowns stop short their shacking pace
Harmonious looks on modestys alarm
& wrinkling smiles will print the pluffy face
If glimpse is had of some forbidden charm
Makes glib each path the swaley street between
Were stepping maidens tho with caution nice
Oft meets a fall & reddens to be seen
While bustling clowns stop short their shacking pace
Harmonious looks on modestys alarm
& wrinkling smiles will print the pluffy face
If glimpse is had of some forbidden charm
From frequent storms & ryhmes that nightly seere
On every thing each cot in white is drest
Nor patch of thatch nor witherd weeds appear
Were little birds their numbing feet may rest
& every twig were summers glory grew
Grim winter mocks with shadows vainly proud
& field & forest leaves the dazzld view
One blea cold picture neath her stretching shroud
On every thing each cot in white is drest
Nor patch of thatch nor witherd weeds appear
Were little birds their numbing feet may rest
& every twig were summers glory grew
Grim winter mocks with shadows vainly proud
& field & forest leaves the dazzld view
One blea cold picture neath her stretching shroud
694
Doll'd round our paths in scant unwilling ways
As one who hates to please or to be pleasd
Winter has beautys well deserving praise
Tho with the ague of its frowns diseasd
Those icey drops which nights chill fingures mould
At each thorn point—as if by magic done
Changes to spangles bright as fancyd gold
Now morn illumnes them with its slanting sun
As one who hates to please or to be pleasd
Winter has beautys well deserving praise
Tho with the ague of its frowns diseasd
Those icey drops which nights chill fingures mould
At each thorn point—as if by magic done
Changes to spangles bright as fancyd gold
Now morn illumnes them with its slanting sun
The green woodpecker now resumes his joys
Perching a sunnyside decaying oaks
Uttering its harsh but not unpleasant noise
& wakes small echos with its tapping stroaks
While the hoarse raven croaking as she flyes
& rooks & daws that clamorous dittys bring
& sailing puddock with its shiller cries
All please ones wanderings as the voice of spring
Perching a sunnyside decaying oaks
Uttering its harsh but not unpleasant noise
& wakes small echos with its tapping stroaks
While the hoarse raven croaking as she flyes
& rooks & daws that clamorous dittys bring
& sailing puddock with its shiller cries
All please ones wanderings as the voice of spring
Again the shepherd whistles to his sheep
Nor more the dog plods hirpling at his heels
As he was wont from winter winds to creep
But pants in random races oer the field
Chasing the crows or startld hares by guess
Then hurrying back to bark his master on
& in the antics of his joys excess
Almost forgets his puppy days are gone
Nor more the dog plods hirpling at his heels
As he was wont from winter winds to creep
But pants in random races oer the field
Chasing the crows or startld hares by guess
Then hurrying back to bark his master on
& in the antics of his joys excess
Almost forgets his puppy days are gone
695
Yet when the sun is at its warmest height
& bares the shining berries on the hedge
Tis well to wander were the winds despight
Expends its fury mid the witherd sedge
That crowns some sloping bank the lane along
Were springs first green & snows the soonest melt
Whose rustling leaves increase the winds wild song
Still threatning tumults that is calmy felt
& bares the shining berries on the hedge
Tis well to wander were the winds despight
Expends its fury mid the witherd sedge
That crowns some sloping bank the lane along
Were springs first green & snows the soonest melt
Whose rustling leaves increase the winds wild song
Still threatning tumults that is calmy felt
Dumb is the voice of nature save the sounds
Of sad complaining cattle here & there
Lorn cows & sheep that track the snowy grounds
& look in vain for grass & utter wild despair
& now & then the lorn unroosted lark
Will chirp its note of sadness & complain
Of scaring steps & dogs alarming bark
As little hoping were to rest again
Of sad complaining cattle here & there
Lorn cows & sheep that track the snowy grounds
& look in vain for grass & utter wild despair
& now & then the lorn unroosted lark
Will chirp its note of sadness & complain
Of scaring steps & dogs alarming bark
As little hoping were to rest again
& as the swain with ponderous beetle breaks
Yon ponds thick ice for waiting stock to drink
A wild confusion momentary wakes
From gabbling geese that loiter on the brink
Long lockd from water by the winter grim
They mope & linger round their haunts in vain
Till such scant chances gives them leave to swim
& there they clamour till its froze again
Yon ponds thick ice for waiting stock to drink
A wild confusion momentary wakes
From gabbling geese that loiter on the brink
Long lockd from water by the winter grim
They mope & linger round their haunts in vain
Till such scant chances gives them leave to swim
& there they clamour till its froze again
Now as one fails the beaten track to meet
Of milking maids & early foddering boys
The snow harsh presses neath ones hastning feet
Crumping & crumping with incessant noise
& brushing branches bye till then unstird
A powdery shower keeps constant pothering round
& een from movments of a startld bird
The trees white cloathing shivers to the ground
Of milking maids & early foddering boys
The snow harsh presses neath ones hastning feet
Crumping & crumping with incessant noise
& brushing branches bye till then unstird
A powdery shower keeps constant pothering round
& een from movments of a startld bird
The trees white cloathing shivers to the ground
696
Yon stretch of clouds grim hung tween earth & heaven
Like tottering rocks whose base is swept away
Wait the winds signal for the tempest given
& spread afar their darkness & dismay
In massy movments near & nearer yet
They wreath them onward in convulsive gloom
Silent as armys for the battle met
Ere breaks that pause that brings the dangers home
Like tottering rocks whose base is swept away
Wait the winds signal for the tempest given
& spread afar their darkness & dismay
In massy movments near & nearer yet
They wreath them onward in convulsive gloom
Silent as armys for the battle met
Ere breaks that pause that brings the dangers home
The arch of space above & round us bowd
Stretches for days his bright unclouded skye
Save odd thin streaks mere shadows of a cloud
That loose to nothing as they pass the eye
& save as round the north in grim delay
The verging threatnings of a storm is given
Clouds like huge rocks with bases torn away
Tottering on nothing tween earth & heaven
Stretches for days his bright unclouded skye
Save odd thin streaks mere shadows of a cloud
That loose to nothing as they pass the eye
& save as round the north in grim delay
The verging threatnings of a storm is given
Clouds like huge rocks with bases torn away
Tottering on nothing tween earth & heaven
| The early poems of John Clare | |