The early poems of John Clare :: :: University of Virginia Library

‘Friendship peculiar boon of heaven
‘The noblest minds delight & pride
‘To men & angels only given
‘To all the lower world deny'd
‘Thy gentle flows of guiltless joys
‘On fools & villians ne'er descend
‘In vain for thee the tyrant sighs
‘& hugs a flatterer for a friend’.
Sam. Johnson

This morning just as I awoken
A black cloud hung the south—unbroken
Thinks I just now we have it soaking
—I rightly guest
Feth glad wer' I to see the token
I wanted rest

& fex a pepsing day theres been on't
But caution'd right wi' what I'd seen on't

143

Keeping at home has kept me clean on't
Ye know my creed
Fool hardy work—I neer wer' keen on't
But lets proceed

I write to keep from mischief meerly
Fire side & comforts 'joying cheerly
& brother chip I love ye dearly
Poor as ye be
Wi' honest heart & soul sincerely
There all to me

This scrawl—mark thou the application
(Tho hardly worth thy observation)
Meaneth a humble Invitation
On some days end
O' all ‘rag'd muffins’ i' the nation
Thou art the friend—

Ive long been agravated shocking
To see our gentry folks so cocking
But sorrows often catch'd by mocking
The truth I've seen
Their pride may want a shoe & stocking
For like has been

144

Prides power's not worth a roasted Onion
I'ds leave be prison mouse wi' Bunyan
As I'd be king o' our dominion
Or any other
When shoffl'd through—its my opinion
One's good as tother

Nor wou'd I gi' from off my cuff
A single pin for no such stuff
Riches besh—t a pinch o' Snuff
Woud dearly buy ye
Whos got ye keeps ye—thats enough
I dont envy ye

If fates so kind to lets be doing
Thats, just keep cart o' wheels fo' going
Oer my half pint I can be crowing
As wells another
But when theres this & that stan's owing
O curse the bother

For had I money like a many
I'd balance even to a penny—
Want, thy confinement make[s] me scrany
That spirits mine
I'd sooner gi' then take from any
But worth cant shine

145

O independence oft I bait thee
How blest I'd been to call ye Matey
—Ye fawning flattering slaves I hate ye
—Mad harum-scarum
If rags & tatters underrate me
Free still I'll wear 'em

What sc---d---ls honours light infesteth
Which her few votaries detesteth
Which honesty as vain arresteth
She cant be heard
In reasons proof she vain protesteth
Worth's no reward

By why these politicks & pluther
The muse ill knows such usless bluther
She turns old friend to greet a brother
& brags to name it
Just as one beggar owns another
Like wants they claim it

& soon as ere a change o' weather
Frees us from labours cramping tether
(Sorrow thrown by heart lights a feather)
Mind what I tell ye
A jovial crush we'll have to gether
—Ye plainly spell me

146

P*x take all Sorrows now I'll bilk em
Whats past may go so—time that shall come
Or's bad or worse or how it will come
I'll neer despair
Poor as I am friends shall be welcome
As rich on's are

So from my heart old friend I'll greet ye
No out side brags shall never cheat ye
Wi' what I have wi' such I treat ye
Ye may believe me
I'll shake ye're Rags when ere I meet ye
If ye decieve me

So mind ye friend ‘whats what’ I send it
My letters plain & plain I'll end it
Bads bad enough but worse wornt mend it
So I be happy
& while I've sixpence left I'll spend it
In cheering nappy

A hearty health shall crown my story
Dear native England I adore thee
—Britons—may ye wi friends before ye
Neer want a quart
To drink your king & countrys glory
Wi upright heart

147

Postscript

Ive oft meant tramping oer to see ye
But d---d old fortune g*d forgi' me
She's so cross grain'd & forked wi' me
Be ere so willing
Spite o' my jingling powers—'ti'n't i' me
To scheme a shilling

& poverty her cursed rigour
Spite o' Industry's utmost vigour
Dizens me out i' such a figure
I'm sham'd being seen
'Sides my old shoon—poor muse ye twig her
Waits roads being clean

Then here wind bound till fates confer'd on't
I wait ye friend—& take my word on't
I'll (spite o' fate) scheme such a hurd on't
As we wi'n't lack
So no excuses shall be heard on't
—Yours random Jack.