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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[O sweet is the song o' the Thrush i the spring mornings]
O sweet is the song o' the Thrush i the spring mornings
And sweet is the Chaffinch that sings o' the Thorn
And lovely and pleasant are natures adornings
To walk out wi Rachael in loves dewey morn
When the hare licks her coat i' the dewey mist clover
And the rabbit pit patters upon the Molehill
And the Wren i' the furze bush wi flowers golden over
Builds her green mossy nest by the side o' the hill
And sweet is the Chaffinch that sings o' the Thorn
And lovely and pleasant are natures adornings
To walk out wi Rachael in loves dewey morn
When the hare licks her coat i' the dewey mist clover
And the rabbit pit patters upon the Molehill
And the Wren i' the furze bush wi flowers golden over
Builds her green mossy nest by the side o' the hill
Ill ramble the wood side and down the green lane go
And court my young Rachael while milking the Kye
The Blackbird sings loud as a Lady's piano
With a yellow gold ring round his violet eye
O Rachael is fair as the dew pearls o' morning
And Rachael is sweet as the buds o sweet brere
Her dark jetty curls oer her eye lashes dawning
The moss on the Rose is'nt nothing so dear
And court my young Rachael while milking the Kye
The Blackbird sings loud as a Lady's piano
With a yellow gold ring round his violet eye
O Rachael is fair as the dew pearls o' morning
And Rachael is sweet as the buds o sweet brere
Her dark jetty curls oer her eye lashes dawning
The moss on the Rose is'nt nothing so dear
O Rachael looks sweet in her new Sunday gown
And her bonny lace cap makes her neck look so fair
Shes the prettiest Girl in all the whole Town
Through her cap you may see the fine comb in her hair
Her breasts underneath her green gown bosom lye
Like a pair o' white Doves in a lilly white nest
O red was her ripe lips & bright was her eye
I courted her long & I loved her the best
And her bonny lace cap makes her neck look so fair
Shes the prettiest Girl in all the whole Town
Through her cap you may see the fine comb in her hair
Her breasts underneath her green gown bosom lye
Like a pair o' white Doves in a lilly white nest
O red was her ripe lips & bright was her eye
I courted her long & I loved her the best
| The later poems of John Clare | |