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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I LIVE AND LOVE AS OTHERS DO |
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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
I LIVE AND LOVE AS OTHERS DO
I live and love as others do
But seldom have the face to woo
A rosy cheek a snowy breast
Doth steal away my tranquil rest
A silent pain my heart doth fill
It pants within but does not kill
Love's a tormenting thing to seek
Withering a heart it cannot break
But seldom have the face to woo
A rosy cheek a snowy breast
Doth steal away my tranquil rest
A silent pain my heart doth fill
It pants within but does not kill
Love's a tormenting thing to seek
Withering a heart it cannot break
1089
That face is fair so very fair
Brighter her eyes than others are
And to my eyes those locks so curled
More beautiful than all the world
That form for ever haunteth me
Nought like to it I ever see
Those swelling breasts like billows rise
To fascinate my wondering eyes
Brighter her eyes than others are
And to my eyes those locks so curled
More beautiful than all the world
That form for ever haunteth me
Nought like to it I ever see
Those swelling breasts like billows rise
To fascinate my wondering eyes
That voice I hear in music tones
Is thrilling through my very bones
The harp & lute and songs of choice
Are discord to her young sweet voice
So softly natural and so kind
Sweet woman she's a child in mind
Woman like a gem impearled
A being that enchants the world
Is thrilling through my very bones
The harp & lute and songs of choice
Are discord to her young sweet voice
So softly natural and so kind
Sweet woman she's a child in mind
Woman like a gem impearled
A being that enchants the world
I live and love as others do
But never had the face to woo
A bosom that loves power displays
Robs my poor life of half its days
A smiling lip though e'er so coy
Turns all my sorrows into joy
That calm sweet face with roses hue
It burns my very vitals through
But never had the face to woo
A bosom that loves power displays
Robs my poor life of half its days
A smiling lip though e'er so coy
Turns all my sorrows into joy
That calm sweet face with roses hue
It burns my very vitals through
I've lived & loved and burned and chilled
And did as God & nature willed
A sigh will cause the tear to flow
Such tears as drown the heart in woe
My soul now sinks within to see
The maid thats dear to love and me
My love I've hid & often sighed
Yet never made the maid my bride
And did as God & nature willed
A sigh will cause the tear to flow
Such tears as drown the heart in woe
My soul now sinks within to see
The maid thats dear to love and me
My love I've hid & often sighed
Yet never made the maid my bride
| The later poems of John Clare | |