 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
THE DESTROYER
In suns and showers luxuriant May came forthAnd spread her riches as of nothing worth,
Cowslips and daisies, buttercups and crowds
Without a name as if they dropt from clouds,
On green and close and meadow everywhere,
So thick, the green did almost disappear
To gold and silver hues, and blooms did vie
With the rich grass' luxuriant mastery.
The simple shepherd in his early hour
With almost every footstep crushed a flower.
The winds did all they could, though oft in vain,
To raise and form them on their stalks again,
Yet some were crushed so much they could not rise,
Finding in poet's heart a room for sighs.
And those his dog beat down did hardly mind
But formed again as happy as the wind,
Leaving a lesson sad with every day
That harm falls most in man's destroying way:
And who could think in such a lovely time
And such a spot, where quiet seemed in prime,
As ne'er to be disturbed, that strife and fear
Like crouching tigers had howled havoc here?
| The Poems of John Clare | |