 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
THE GARDEN BENCH
I sit to see the landscape fade awayIn musing shadows with departing day
Leaving the shepherds storys half untold
While weary flocks go bleating to the fold
& midges dancing in the evening sun
Bids labour welcome that its toil is done
A wonted quiet oer the bosom steals
Which calm seclusive quiet ever feels
Glad as the hope that meets a lovers smile
Or sweet as labour resting from its toil
& sweet it is some pleasant tale to weave
Neath the swart twilight of a summers eve
Of some sweet being that in thought doth move
An angels beauty with a womans love
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |