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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COLLIN'S COMPLAINT |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
COLLIN'S COMPLAINT
When lovers to each other true
In every virtuous wish agree
How pleasing is the interview
Alas! but how unknown to me
In every virtuous wish agree
How pleasing is the interview
Alas! but how unknown to me
For Chloe timid as the fawn
Nor yet less timid then she's proud
Call's ‘virtue’ to resist the lawn
And ‘pr[i]de’ to shun me in a crowd
Nor yet less timid then she's proud
Call's ‘virtue’ to resist the lawn
And ‘pr[i]de’ to shun me in a crowd
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Thus with her virtues blushing grace
(Tho more disdainful pride I fear)
She hates the private-public place
And leaves me absent every where
(Tho more disdainful pride I fear)
She hates the private-public place
And leaves me absent every where
While Damon with his Fillis roves
Freely possesing every charm
Thro level meeds and shady groves
They wander sweetly ‘arm in arm’
Freely possesing every charm
Thro level meeds and shady groves
They wander sweetly ‘arm in arm’
O! what can equal love like this
When both with equal fondness burn
Yielding—he gives a rapturous kiss
Which she as freely does return
When both with equal fondness burn
Yielding—he gives a rapturous kiss
Which she as freely does return
But cease to praise—unconsious heart
As Fillis is her Damons care
He soon may take a jealous part
And think that collin longs to share
As Fillis is her Damons care
He soon may take a jealous part
And think that collin longs to share
And if fair Chloe once should hear
Soon soon excuse's would be crost
Disdain now hid would then appear
And hopes to gain entirley lost
Soon soon excuse's would be crost
Disdain now hid would then appear
And hopes to gain entirley lost
Then cease—and tho thy love seems naught
But fancied hope in distant dreams
And in a reality of thought
Is nothing else but what it seems
But fancied hope in distant dreams
And in a reality of thought
Is nothing else but what it seems
Yet hope and dwell on fond delay
That time-to-come may better prove
Make Chloe kind—and that I may
In virtues bounds posess her love
That time-to-come may better prove
Make Chloe kind—and that I may
In virtues bounds posess her love
| The early poems of John Clare | |