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

Day burnishes the distant hills
& clouds blush far away
Lifes heart with natures rapture thrills
To hail this glorious day
The morning falls in dizzy light
On mountain tops & towers
But speeds with soft & gentle flight
Among these valley flowers

Theres music in the waking woods
Theres glory in the air
Birds in their merry summer moods
Now rant & revel there
Joy wakes & wantons all around
Love laughs in every call
Music in many hearts abounds
& poesy breaths in all

The merry newcome Nightingale
Woos nights dull hours along
Till daylight at the sound turns pale
& hastes to share the song
A waste of sunny flowers is seen
& insence fills the air
No sunless place is found too mean
Springs blushing gems to wear

The horse blob by the water mill
Blooms in the foaming dam
& pilewort blazes round the hill
Beside the sleeping lamb
Spring is the happy breathing time
For young loves stolen joys
Spring is the poets luscious prime
He revels in the noise

Of waking insects humming round
Of birds upon the wing
& all the gushing soul of sound
That echoes of the spring
For in their joys his own are met
Tho tears stand in his eye

In their gay mirth he half forgets
He eer knew how to sigh

He feeds on springs precarious boon
A being of her race
Where light & shade & shower & sun
Are ever changing place
To day he buds & glows to meet
To morrows promised shower
When crushed by cares intruding feet
He fades a broken flower

His hopes they change like summer clouds
& fairy phantasies
His pleasures wrapt in gayer shrouds
Are sorrows in disguise
The sweetest smiles his heart can find
Possess their tears as well
& highest pleasures leave behind
Their heartache & farewell

His are the fading “joys of grief”
Care grows his favoured guest
& sorrow gives his heart relief
Because it knows him best
The sweetest flower on pleasures path
Will bloom on sorrows grave
& earthly love & earthly mirth
Their share of grief shall have

& poesy owns a haunted mind
A thirst enduring flame
Burning the soul to leave behind
The memory of a name
Though life he deemed as sweetly sold
For toil so ill repaid
The marble epitaph how cold
Although with gold inlaid

While the rude clown of thoughtless clay
In feelings unrefined
Lives out lifes cloudless holiday
With nothing on his mind
Then sound as ever king hath slept

On earths green lap he lies
While beautys tear so sweetly wept
& friendships warmest sighs

Are left upon his lowly grave
& live his only fame
While frowning envy never gave
One insult to his name
Yet who would from their cares be free
For such unconsious bliss
A living blank in life to be
Pains sympathy to miss

To meet enthusiastic May
As but dull winters hours
& primrose pale & daisy gay
As white & yellow flowers
& not as friends in our esteem
To cheer dull lifes sojourn
Let me throughout its cheating dream
Much rather feel & mourn

The bliss or grief tho past controul
That with extremes inflame
Blood rushing feelings through the soul
Not uttered in a name
Where no words live to free the mind
Of hidden hopes or fears
The only utterance they can find
Are gushing smiles & tears

Yet woo I not that burning flame
Enkindling ecstasy
Blazing in dreams to win a name
From fames eternity
Fames yearning breath breeds not my sigh
Nor eats my heart away
Burning lifes every channel dry
To triumph oer decay

Yet with the minstrelsy on earth
I too would love the lyre
For heaven neer gave the meanest birth
To quench that holy fire

It owns the muses sweetest smiles
& scatters life around
Grief sick with hopes heart broken toils
Glows happy at the sound

The lyre is pleasures blest abode
& round it angels throng
The lyre it is the voice of God
The prophets spoke in song
& as the sun this day brings forth
Creations every hour
Cares wreath warms at the muses mirth
& blushes into flower