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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A BEGGING ORPHANS ADDRESS TO A LADY |
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 | The early poems of John Clare |  |
A BEGGING ORPHANS ADDRESS TO A LADY
Good lady stay pity a poor begging orphan
Who's got neither parents or friends
O hear my true ditty too oft made a laugh on
O pity & make me amends
My mam woudnt let once the cold wind blow on me
Little thinking what I shoud come to
My dad proved as tender till death took him from me
O pity me good Lady do
Who's got neither parents or friends
O hear my true ditty too oft made a laugh on
O pity & make me amends
My mam woudnt let once the cold wind blow on me
Little thinking what I shoud come to
My dad proved as tender till death took him from me
O pity me good Lady do
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O if my dear parents knew how I am used
Coud they from high heaven but see
How by that sad tyrant their orphans abused
Theyd sadly be troubled for me
Soon as rich or poor see me they cry in a passion
‘Begone sir weve nothing for you’
Nor my rags nor misfortunes can crave their compassion
O pity me good lady do
Coud they from high heaven but see
How by that sad tyrant their orphans abused
Theyd sadly be troubled for me
Soon as rich or poor see me they cry in a passion
‘Begone sir weve nothing for you’
Nor my rags nor misfortunes can crave their compassion
O pity me good lady do
When I hold up my fingers so blistered & perished
By making my bed on the snow
They cry ‘O you scoundrel they soon woud be cherished
‘They only want somthing to do’
Dont you think tender lady such folks are hard hearted
I am sure by your tears that you do
Tho Ive been so ill used since my parents departed
I never need fear it from you
By making my bed on the snow
They cry ‘O you scoundrel they soon woud be cherished
‘They only want somthing to do’
Dont you think tender lady such folks are hard hearted
I am sure by your tears that you do
Tho Ive been so ill used since my parents departed
I never need fear it from you
O Im to have victuals to keep me from starving
O heavens & cloathed to be
Such uncommon goodness may I be deserving
Ill strive far as life lies in me
God bless you good lady now freed from all tyrants
Ill near miss my mother in you
For what youll do for me is more then my parents
If they were both living coud do
O heavens & cloathed to be
Such uncommon goodness may I be deserving
Ill strive far as life lies in me
God bless you good lady now freed from all tyrants
Ill near miss my mother in you
For what youll do for me is more then my parents
If they were both living coud do
| The early poems of John Clare | |