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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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
896
SONG
[O had I the wings o' the dove]
O had I the wings o' the dove
I'd fly to the land I like best
Go bed on the bosom o' love
Among the sweet lilys to rest
I'd play i her sheets like the Snow
And kiss the proud mole on her breast
When mornings sun came I'd not go
But stay till it hid in the West
I'd fly to the land I like best
Go bed on the bosom o' love
Among the sweet lilys to rest
I'd play i her sheets like the Snow
And kiss the proud mole on her breast
When mornings sun came I'd not go
But stay till it hid in the West
O had I the wings o' the Dove
I' loves lily sheets I would lie
And kiss o' the secrets o' love
And love i the light o' her eye
A rosey i bud on each breast
As flowers on the mountain tops lye
Between such white hills to go rest
How sweet a good conscience might lye
I' loves lily sheets I would lie
And kiss o' the secrets o' love
And love i the light o' her eye
A rosey i bud on each breast
As flowers on the mountain tops lye
Between such white hills to go rest
How sweet a good conscience might lye
O give me the speed o' the dove
Since to her I no thoughts can convey
And I'll live i the soul o' her love
Till I spring like an angel from clay
There's a beauty spot blotched on her arm
And one on the thick o her thigh
On them I could kiss & be warm
And live i the light o' her eye
Since to her I no thoughts can convey
And I'll live i the soul o' her love
Till I spring like an angel from clay
There's a beauty spot blotched on her arm
And one on the thick o her thigh
On them I could kiss & be warm
And live i the light o' her eye
| The later poems of John Clare | |