The early poems of John Clare 1804-1822: General editor Eric Robinson: Edited by Eric Robinson and David Powell: Associate editor Margaret Grainger |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
BALLAD
[Warm passions of love first the maidens heart heaving]
Warm passions of love first the maidens heart heaving
The choice of her bosom what pleasure he proves
In the cool hour of even days labours a leaving
& shunning the town for the peace of the groves
There kisses impassiond upon her lips breathing
As sweet as the garden of eden ere knew
There all his fond wishes his arms round em wreathing
Wi both bosoms beating in unison true
The choice of her bosom what pleasure he proves
In the cool hour of even days labours a leaving
& shunning the town for the peace of the groves
There kisses impassiond upon her lips breathing
As sweet as the garden of eden ere knew
There all his fond wishes his arms round em wreathing
Wi both bosoms beating in unison true
39
She neer looks the day but she longs to discover
What sleeping or waking her fancy keeps near
She neer feels a wish but it flies to her lover
& sighs for returns of being loved as dear
She neer feels a joy but his presence inspireth
She neer looks a smile but his eyes meet a share
Nor time never weakens nor custom neer tireth
If beautys temptations she sees em but there
What sleeping or waking her fancy keeps near
She neer feels a wish but it flies to her lover
& sighs for returns of being loved as dear
She neer feels a joy but his presence inspireth
She neer looks a smile but his eyes meet a share
Nor time never weakens nor custom neer tireth
If beautys temptations she sees em but there
She breaths scarce a word but her lovers name shares it
& to ease her fond heart of the burthen it bears
In days painful abscence she often declares it
By speaking too warm in his praise unawares
O love its first passion the maidens heart heaving
The choice of her bosom what pleasure he proves
At the cool hour of even days labours a leaving
& meeting his all in the shade of the groves
& to ease her fond heart of the burthen it bears
In days painful abscence she often declares it
By speaking too warm in his praise unawares
O love its first passion the maidens heart heaving
The choice of her bosom what pleasure he proves
At the cool hour of even days labours a leaving
& meeting his all in the shade of the groves
| The early poems of John Clare | |