 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
436
AMBITION
Ambition what a pomp creating wordTis libelous of comfort though tis heard
As comforts aid & counsellor—O fie
That hearts should smile at what should make them sigh
The swelling thought that gives the heart relief
The ever craving wish that will not sleep
Till comes the sudden gush of care & grief
& anxious hope that gives it small relief
Soothing the rude extremeties of fate
Till every hope hath left it desolate
Like grandeur that with fading pride doth dwell
Oer ancient walls till every stone hath fell
It falls & leaves—the song of every wind
A broken shadow of its hopes behind
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |