 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
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THE SHEPHERDS LODGE
There are unnoticed spots of earth
That the world but seldom sees
That know the sweetest joys & mirth
—The poets reveries
Are shadows to the sunny rays
That visits their untroubled days
That the world but seldom sees
That know the sweetest joys & mirth
—The poets reveries
Are shadows to the sunny rays
That visits their untroubled days
In hidden spots surrounded close
With hedges woods & upland swells
There snug in solitudes repose
A cottage circle dwells
The world has never seen before
The pathway to that happy door
With hedges woods & upland swells
There snug in solitudes repose
A cottage circle dwells
The world has never seen before
The pathway to that happy door
When merry children rich in joy
Play summers longest sunshine down
As fearless in their minds employ
As dwellers in a crowded town
Though stranger faces scarce appear
At their lone dwelling once a year
Play summers longest sunshine down
As fearless in their minds employ
As dwellers in a crowded town
Though stranger faces scarce appear
At their lone dwelling once a year
& but for some few straggling flowers
Some roseys nailed against the wall
Strangers might pass in silent hours
Close bye & never dream at all
That human life was living near
So hidden doth the place appear
Some roseys nailed against the wall
Strangers might pass in silent hours
Close bye & never dream at all
That human life was living near
So hidden doth the place appear
The chamber windows huddled up
With vine leaves scarce let daylight in
A tall man he must double stoop
Ere he the door can enter in
The eaves so low when sparrows dare
To build—boys reach them with a chair
With vine leaves scarce let daylight in
A tall man he must double stoop
Ere he the door can enter in
The eaves so low when sparrows dare
To build—boys reach them with a chair
A little dyke runs by the door
With ozier bushes by the side
The winter waters hasty roar
Makes little places deep & wide
That when the brook has done its song
Hold water all the summer long
With ozier bushes by the side
The winter waters hasty roar
Makes little places deep & wide
That when the brook has done its song
Hold water all the summer long
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The little wooden brig would make
A strangers courage feel at loss
That seeming ever on the shake
Bends double when they walk accross
But custom makes it safetys way
& crosses scores of times a day
A strangers courage feel at loss
That seeming ever on the shake
Bends double when they walk accross
But custom makes it safetys way
& crosses scores of times a day
The place is such a lonely place
Hid in the seasons circling years
They look upon a strangers face
As citys when a king appears
& nothing human passes bye
But they his very foot can spy
Hid in the seasons circling years
They look upon a strangers face
As citys when a king appears
& nothing human passes bye
But they his very foot can spy
Which gives them thinkings for the week
To wonder who had gone that way
The very gates unfrequent creak
Calls up the childern from their play
To see whats coming—yet tis plain
Noughts coming—so they play again
To wonder who had gone that way
The very gates unfrequent creak
Calls up the childern from their play
To see whats coming—yet tis plain
Noughts coming—so they play again
The pathway by a stranger guest
By accident may lead him bye
Like startling groundlark from its nest
Where nest could scarce be thought to lie
Noises he hears & then he feels
The trees some human home consceals
By accident may lead him bye
Like startling groundlark from its nest
Where nest could scarce be thought to lie
Noises he hears & then he feels
The trees some human home consceals
The lonely hedges hips & awes
They search for on a sabbath day
No wishes their attention draws
For company—they never stray
To neighbouring town—& some there are
That never saw a feast or fair
They search for on a sabbath day
No wishes their attention draws
For company—they never stray
To neighbouring town—& some there are
That never saw a feast or fair
It is a shepherds cot & he
Has hardly seen a market town
But so much used to bush & tree
Not grows but he has noted down
Around that spot he loves to range
& never feels a wish to change
Has hardly seen a market town
But so much used to bush & tree
Not grows but he has noted down
Around that spot he loves to range
& never feels a wish to change
He notes the seasons year by year
Clouds birds & flowers to ear & eye
Are almanacks that tell him clear
When change of weather cometh nigh
When some by almanacks have guest
He smiles & thinks his own the best
Clouds birds & flowers to ear & eye
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When change of weather cometh nigh
When some by almanacks have guest
He smiles & thinks his own the best
Upon the lands the pimpernell
With crimson rim & golden eye
Smiles in his look & shows him well
Showers yet are absent from the sky
That little sky that like a dome
Surrounds his hedgrow fields & home
With crimson rim & golden eye
Smiles in his look & shows him well
Showers yet are absent from the sky
That little sky that like a dome
Surrounds his hedgrow fields & home
Oft in his rounds he'll hasten home
His little hay to cover down
Though skys ne'er token rain to come
With white rack moving up & down
Yet in the willow fringed vale
Pipes “wet my foot” the lonely quail
His little hay to cover down
Though skys ne'er token rain to come
With white rack moving up & down
Yet in the willow fringed vale
Pipes “wet my foot” the lonely quail
Right full upon the southwest gale
He hears the tempests murmurs come
Long ere the village in the vale
Thinks danger is so near its home
Long use foretells its coming near
Ere distant thunder meets his ear
He hears the tempests murmurs come
Long ere the village in the vale
Thinks danger is so near its home
Long use foretells its coming near
Ere distant thunder meets his ear
The southwest often gathers up
A troop of clouds upon his eye
Till distant woods appear to stoop
Beneath the burthen of the sky
& sure as clouds approach that way
He prophecys a rainy day
A troop of clouds upon his eye
Till distant woods appear to stoop
Beneath the burthen of the sky
& sure as clouds approach that way
He prophecys a rainy day
To books unknown he never knows
What they to thinking minds supply
& yet his simple knowledge shows
Much wiser men may profit bye
A calm content that never strays
From providence in all his days
What they to thinking minds supply
& yet his simple knowledge shows
Much wiser men may profit bye
A calm content that never strays
From providence in all his days
That never errs in sense of right
Though simple reasons mark his ways
He never rambles out of sight
From what he deems his makers praise
Though all the sermons which he hears
Are his own thoughts & humble fears
Though simple reasons mark his ways
He never rambles out of sight
From what he deems his makers praise
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Are his own thoughts & humble fears
The poets page he never knew
Though Thompsons eye could hardly scan
The seasons with such truth or view
Their features closer as they ran
Familiar from his earliest day
He tracked the year from may to may
Though Thompsons eye could hardly scan
The seasons with such truth or view
Their features closer as they ran
Familiar from his earliest day
He tracked the year from may to may
Some few old books in dissaray—
Though he is not the man to scoff
Good books—about the cottage lay
A Bunyan with the covers off
A Crusoe wanting some few leaves
That wonder for the winter eves
Though he is not the man to scoff
Good books—about the cottage lay
A Bunyan with the covers off
A Crusoe wanting some few leaves
That wonder for the winter eves
& one might marvel half a day
To see a book in such a spot
& wonder how they found the way
In places which the world knows not
& careful in a cupboard lay
The Bible for the Sabbath day
To see a book in such a spot
& wonder how they found the way
In places which the world knows not
& careful in a cupboard lay
The Bible for the Sabbath day
The poets sing of joy but he
With lifes right simple feelings strung
Feels joy in its rich melody
A page of happiness unsung
So sweet could kings see through their cares
How shepherds live they'd wish it theres
With lifes right simple feelings strung
Feels joy in its rich melody
A page of happiness unsung
So sweet could kings see through their cares
How shepherds live they'd wish it theres
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |