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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[Summer is on the earth & in the sky] |
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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
[Summer is on the earth & in the sky]
Summer is on the earth & in the sky
The days all sunny & the fields all green
The woods spread oer her hills a canophy
Of beautys harmony in every scene
Like to a map the fields & valleys lie
Winds dash in wildest motions the woods green
& every wave of leaves & every billow
Lies in the sun like Beauty on a pillow
The days all sunny & the fields all green
178
Of beautys harmony in every scene
Like to a map the fields & valleys lie
Winds dash in wildest motions the woods green
& every wave of leaves & every billow
Lies in the sun like Beauty on a pillow
There is a freshness in the leafy sprays
That dashes oer the forest from the wind
The wild sublimity of windy days
Like the rich thinkings of a master mind
Or dashes on the canvass none can find
In works inferior—when the woods all blaze
With a wild sunset & the winds unbind
Their foliage to the heavens wild amaze
Field meadow wood rolling oer stormy days
That dashes oer the forest from the wind
The wild sublimity of windy days
Like the rich thinkings of a master mind
Or dashes on the canvass none can find
In works inferior—when the woods all blaze
With a wild sunset & the winds unbind
Their foliage to the heavens wild amaze
Field meadow wood rolling oer stormy days
The roaring of the woods is like a sea
All thunder & comotion to the shore
The old oaks toss their branches to be free
& urge the fury of the storm the more
Louder then thunder is the sobbing roar
Of leafy billows to their shore the sky
Round which the bloodshot clouds like fields of gore
In angry silence did at anchor lie
As if the battles roar was not yet bye
All thunder & comotion to the shore
The old oaks toss their branches to be free
& urge the fury of the storm the more
Louder then thunder is the sobbing roar
Of leafy billows to their shore the sky
Round which the bloodshot clouds like fields of gore
In angry silence did at anchor lie
As if the battles roar was not yet bye
Anon the wind has ceased the woods are still
The winds are sobbed to sleep & all is rest
The clouds like solid rocks too jagged for hills
Lie quietly ashore upon the west
The cottage ceases rocking—each tired guest
Sleeps sounder for the heavy storm's uproar
—How calm the sunset blazes in the west
As if the waking storm would burst no more
& this still even seems more calmer than before
The winds are sobbed to sleep & all is rest
The clouds like solid rocks too jagged for hills
Lie quietly ashore upon the west
The cottage ceases rocking—each tired guest
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—How calm the sunset blazes in the west
As if the waking storm would burst no more
& this still even seems more calmer than before
| The later poems of John Clare | |