 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
245
THE EVENING STAR
How blest Ive felt on summer eves
When resting on a stile
Half hid in hazels moistening leaves
So weary after toil
When resting on a stile
Half hid in hazels moistening leaves
So weary after toil
& gazing on the evening star
That shed its ruddy light
Like joys which somthing came to mar
Retreating out of sight
That shed its ruddy light
Like joys which somthing came to mar
Retreating out of sight
Oer the wood corners somber brown
The lamp of dewy eve
No sooner up then sloping down
Seemed always taking leave
The lamp of dewy eve
No sooner up then sloping down
Seemed always taking leave
Yet tis a lovely sight to see
& beautiful the time
It shines in heavens canophy
As evenings gentle prime
& beautiful the time
It shines in heavens canophy
As evenings gentle prime
Akin to images & things
That glad the quiet mind
A calmness oer the heart it flings
That poets love to find
That glad the quiet mind
A calmness oer the heart it flings
That poets love to find
It shines oer sheep within the fold
Oer shepherds whistling home
The plough lies in the fallow mould
The horse is free to roam
Oer shepherds whistling home
The plough lies in the fallow mould
The horse is free to roam
Tis welcome to the weary breast
It sweetens lifes employ
It sees the labourer to his rest
The lover to his joy
It sweetens lifes employ
It sees the labourer to his rest
The lover to his joy
The wanderer seeks his easy chair
The light is in his cot
His evening star is shining there
& troubles are forgot
The light is in his cot
His evening star is shining there
& troubles are forgot
It looks on many a happy place
Where lovers steal to meet
It gilds the milkmaids ruddy face
While on her rustic seat
Where lovers steal to meet
246
While on her rustic seat
Upon the old tree in the glen
That by the hovel lay
The shepherd he had set the pen
& whistled on his way
That by the hovel lay
The shepherd he had set the pen
& whistled on his way
It shines oer many a whispered pledge
By fondness told again
In cowsheds by the woodland hedge
Neath awthorns by the lane
By fondness told again
In cowsheds by the woodland hedge
Neath awthorns by the lane
It brings the balm to summer nights
Like insense from afar
& every musing mind delights
To see the evening star
Like insense from afar
& every musing mind delights
To see the evening star
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |