 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
120
SPRING MORNING
How beautiful is daybreak! light betimesThreads thro' the clouds; the red sun sweetly climbs
Up to our chamber windows; thwart the sky
The clouds like bright volcanoes slumber by
Slowly and grand. Toil, early out of doors,
Goes praising the sweet time devoid of sorrow
And prophesies the cuckoo's song to-morrow.
Birds hop about each hedge, and by the stack
The small wren twits with tail cocked o'er his back,
Building his nest right early 'neath the shed
Where cows in winter found a pleasant bed.
Flowers thicken everywhere; the very tops
Of walls are thronged with spring's delicious crops
Of tiny snow-white blossoms thickly spread.
| The Poems of John Clare | |