John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now swathy summer by rude health embrowned
Prescedence takes of rosey fingered spring
& laughing joy with wild flowers pranked & crowned
A wild & giddy thing
With health robust from every care unbound
Comes on the zephers wing
& cheers the toiling clown

Happy as holiday enjoying face
Loud tongued & “merry as a marriage bell”
Thy lightsome step sheds joy in every place
& where the troubled dwell
Thy witching charms weans them of half their cares
& from thy sunny spell
They greet joy unawares

Then with thy sultry locks all loose & rude
& mantle laced with gems of garish light
Come as of wont—for I would fain intrude
& in the worlds despight
Share the rude mirth that thine own heart beguiles
If haply so I might
Win pleasure from thy smiles.

Me not the noise of brawling pleasures cheer
In nightly revels or in city streets
But joys which sooth & not distract mine ear
That one at leisure meets
In the green woods & meadows summer shorn
Or fields where beeflye greets
Ones ear with mellow horn

Where green swathed grasshopper on treble pipe
Singeth & danceth in mad hearted pranks
& bees go courting every flower thats ripe
On baulks & sunny banks
& droning dragon flye on rude bassoon
Striveth to give god thanks
In no discordant tune

Where speckled thrush by self delight embued
Singeth unto himself for joys amends

& drinks the honey dew of solitude
Where happiness attends
With inbred joy untill his heart oerflows
Of which the worlds rude friends
Naught heeding nothing knows

Where the gay river laughing as it goes
Plashes with easy wave its flaggy sides
& to the calm of heart in calmness shows
What pleasure there abides
To trace its sedgey banks from trouble free
Spots solitude provides
To muse & happy be

Or ruminating neath some pleasant bush
On sweet silk grasses stretch me at mine ease
Where I can pillow on the yielding rush
& acting as I please
Drop into pleasant dreams or musing lie
Mark the wind shaken trees
& cloud betravelled skye

There think me how some barter joy for care
& waste lifes summer health in riot rude
Of nature nor of natures sweets aware
Where passions vain intrude
These by calm musings softened are & still
& the hearts better mood
Feels sick of doing ill

Here I can live & at my leisure seek
Joys far from cold restraints—not fearing pride
Free as the winds that breath upon my cheek
Rude health so long denied
Where poor integrity can sit at ease
& list self satisfied
The song of honey bees

& green lane traverse heedless where it goes
Nought guessing till some sudden turn espies
Rude battered fingerpost that stooping shows
Where the snug mystery lies
& then a mossy spire with ivy crown
Clears up the short supprise

& shows a peeping town

& see the wild flowers in their summer morn
Of beauty feeding on joys luscious hours
The gay convolvulus wreathing round the thorn
Agape for honey showers
& slender kingcup burnished with the dew
Of mornings early hours
Like gold yminted new

& mark by rustic bridge oer shallow stream
Cow tending boy to toil unreconsiled
Absorbed as in some vagrant summer dream
& now in gestures wild
Starts dancing to his shadow on the wall
Feeling self gratified
Nor fearing human thrall

Then thread the sunny valley laced with streams
Or forrests rude & the oer shadowed brims
Of simple ponds where idle shepherd dreams
& streaks his listless limbs
Or trace hay scented meadows smooth & long
Where joys wild impulse swims
In one continued song

I love at early morn from new mown swath
To see the startled frog his rout pursue
& mark while leaping oer the dripping path
His bright sides scatter dew
& early lark that from its bustle flyes—
To hail his mattin new
& watch him to the skyes

& note on hedgerow baulks in moisture sprent
The jetty snail creep from the mossy thorn
In earnest heed & tremulous intent
Frail brother of the morn
That from the tiney bents & misted leaves
Withdraws his timid horn
& fearful vision weaves

& swallows heed on smoke tanned chimney top
As wont be first unsealing mornings eye

Ere yet the bee hath gleaned one wayward drop
Of honey on his thigh
& see him seek morns airy couch to sing
Untill the golden sky
Besprents his russet wing

& sawning boy by tanning corn espy
With clapping noise to startle birds away
& hear him brawl to every passer bye
To know the hour of day
& see the uncradeled breeze refreshed & strong
With waking blossoms play
& breath eolian song

I love the south west wind or low or loud
& not the less when sudden drops of rain
Moistens my palid cheek from ebon cloud
Threatening soft showers again
That over lands new ploughed & meadow grounds
Summers sweet breath unchains
& wakes harmonious sounds

Rich music breathes in summers every sound
& in her harmony of varied greens
Woods meadows hedgrows cornfields all around
Much beauty intervenes
Filling with harmony the ear & eye
While oer the mingling scenes
Far spreads the laughing sky

& wind enarmoured aspin mark the leaves
Turn up their silver lining to the sun
& list the brustling noise that oft decieves
& makes the sheepboy run
The sound so mimics fast approaching showers
He thinks the rain begun
& hastes to sheltering bowers

& mark the evening curdle dank & grey
Changing her watchet hue for sombre weed
& moping owl to close the lids of day
On drowsy wing proceed
While chickering crickets tremulous & long
Lights farewell inly heed

& gives it parting song

While pranking bat its flighty circlet makes
& gloworm burnisheth its lamp anew
Oer meadows dew besprent—& beetle wakes
Enquires ever new
Teazing each passing ear with murmurs vain
As wonting to pursue
His homeward path again

& catch the melody of distant bells
That on the wind with pleasing hum rebounds
By fitful starts—then musically swells
Oer the dim stilly grounds
While on the meadow bridge the pausing boy
Listens the mellow sounds
& hums in vacant joy

& now the homebound hedger bundles up
His evening faggot & with every stride
His leathern dublet leaves a rustling sound
Till silly sheep beside
His path start tremulous & once again
Look back dissatisfied
Then scour the dewy plain

& greet the soothing calm that smoothly stills
Oer the hearts every sense its opiate dews
In meek eyed moods & ever balmy trills
That softens & subdues
With gentle quiets bland & sober train
Which dreamy eve renews
In many a mellow strain

I love to walk the fields they are to me
A legacy no evil can destroy
They like a spell set every rapture free
That cheered me when a boy
Play pastime all times blotting pen consceals
Come like a new born joy
To greet me in the fields

For natures objects ever harmonize
With emelous taste that vulgar deed anoys

It loves in quiet moods to sympathise
& meet vibrating joys
Oer natures pleasing things—nor slighting deems
Pastime the muse employs
As vain obtrusive themes