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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BONNY LASSIE DINNA LEAVE ME |
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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
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BONNY LASSIE DINNA LEAVE ME
Bonny Lassie dinna leave me
Losing thee would ever grieve me
If it be a sin to love thee
Why's the sun so bright above thee
Why's the sky so heavenly blue
My Jinney when I'm courting you
And when you go so dull's the scene
The simmer seems to lose its green
All wears the mist and mountain hue
When Jinneys gone there's naught to woo
Losing thee would ever grieve me
If it be a sin to love thee
Why's the sun so bright above thee
Why's the sky so heavenly blue
My Jinney when I'm courting you
And when you go so dull's the scene
The simmer seems to lose its green
All wears the mist and mountain hue
When Jinneys gone there's naught to woo
Nature puts on its mourning gown
And grass & leaves look black & brown
There's nothing lovely nothing sweet
Sin I wi Jinney failed to meet
The lark is silent all the day
Where can the handsome vagrant stray
Where can she hide so sweet a face
Which brightens up this silent place
The brook rins over pebbled stones
And Jinneys voice is in its tones
And grass & leaves look black & brown
There's nothing lovely nothing sweet
Sin I wi Jinney failed to meet
The lark is silent all the day
Where can the handsome vagrant stray
Where can she hide so sweet a face
Which brightens up this silent place
The brook rins over pebbled stones
And Jinneys voice is in its tones
Bonnie lassie leave me never
If thou'rt mine I'm thine for ever
Thou'rt like a flower my bonny Jennie
Nature brings thee stores o' hinney
Bluiming sweet at evenings hour
The fairest first dew dropping flower
Wild woodbines covered oer wi hinney
Are naething nigh so sweet as Jinney
Her I'll love and leave her never
If sin is love I'll love for ever
If thou'rt mine I'm thine for ever
Thou'rt like a flower my bonny Jennie
Nature brings thee stores o' hinney
Bluiming sweet at evenings hour
The fairest first dew dropping flower
Wild woodbines covered oer wi hinney
Are naething nigh so sweet as Jinney
Her I'll love and leave her never
If sin is love I'll love for ever
| The later poems of John Clare | |