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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ALONG THE WILLOW BANKS OF NEN |
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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
ALONG THE WILLOW BANKS OF NEN
Along the willow banks of Nen
Where bows the bullrush tall
I wander from the ways of men
And get released from thrall
Winds rustling in the flags & sedge
That pucker o'er the stream
In ruffles to the waters edge
How beautiful they seem
Cool and refreshing is the flood
It does the weary spirits good
Where bows the bullrush tall
I wander from the ways of men
And get released from thrall
Winds rustling in the flags & sedge
That pucker o'er the stream
In ruffles to the waters edge
How beautiful they seem
Cool and refreshing is the flood
It does the weary spirits good
1035
There's nought so sweet as summer winds
Their soft and perfumed wings
That every wild flowers dwelling finds
And to their blossom clings
Theres nothing half so soft or sweet
It helps the busy bee
Trees, bushes, dance where'er they meet
Its rural minstrelsy
They bend and bow and then are still
As summer winds their mins[t]rels will
Their soft and perfumed wings
That every wild flowers dwelling finds
And to their blossom clings
Theres nothing half so soft or sweet
It helps the busy bee
Trees, bushes, dance where'er they meet
Its rural minstrelsy
They bend and bow and then are still
As summer winds their mins[t]rels will
How beautiful the river glides
And wanders at its will
What plashing ripples wash its tides
And crinkle further still
How beautiful the gurgling noise
The shingly pebbles make
The fish leap up as many boys
Are playing ‘Duck and Drake’
Fish leap in rings and rush and sedge
Conveys them to the waters edge
And wanders at its will
What plashing ripples wash its tides
And crinkle further still
How beautiful the gurgling noise
The shingly pebbles make
The fish leap up as many boys
Are playing ‘Duck and Drake’
Fish leap in rings and rush and sedge
Conveys them to the waters edge
Here could I but my Hannah see
The winds play in her Auburn hair
On the green bank beside o' me
Her red rose Cheek so plump and fair
How beautiful the place would be
How brighter far the flowing stream
Millions of suns in spangles flee
Tis doubly happy so to dream
And this green place secure from ill
Makes Hannahs memory dearer still
The winds play in her Auburn hair
On the green bank beside o' me
Her red rose Cheek so plump and fair
How beautiful the place would be
How brighter far the flowing stream
Millions of suns in spangles flee
Tis doubly happy so to dream
And this green place secure from ill
Makes Hannahs memory dearer still
| The later poems of John Clare | |