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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 | The later poems of John Clare |  |
SONG
[Tis spring my love tis spring]
Tis spring my love tis spring
& the birds begin to sing
If twas winter left alone with you
Your happy form & face
Would make a sunny place
& prove a finer flower then ever grew
& the birds begin to sing
If twas winter left alone with you
180
Would make a sunny place
& prove a finer flower then ever grew
Tis spring my love tis spring
On the hazels catkins hing
& the snow drop wi' blebs o' dew
Is not more white within
Then your bosoms hidden skin
The sweetest bonny flower that ever grew
On the hazels catkins hing
& the snow drop wi' blebs o' dew
Is not more white within
Then your bosoms hidden skin
The sweetest bonny flower that ever grew
The suns arose from bed
All strewn with roses red
But the brightest crimson place
Is nought so fresh & fair
Or so lovely to compare
As thy blushing bonny face
All strewn with roses red
But the brightest crimson place
Is nought so fresh & fair
Or so lovely to compare
As thy blushing bonny face
I love springs early flowers
& their bloom in her first hours
They never half so bright or lovely seem
They are like the happy grace
Of young womans blushing face
& the green happiness of loves young dream
& their bloom in her first hours
They never half so bright or lovely seem
They are like the happy grace
Of young womans blushing face
& the green happiness of loves young dream
| The later poems of John Clare | |