 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
FOOTPATHS (V)
Yet still the little path winds on and onDown hedgerow sides and many a pastoral charm;
We soon forget the charm of poesy gone
In the still woodland with its silent balm,
And find some other joy to dream upon:
A distant notice of some nestling farm,
Crowded with russet stacks that peep between
Huge homestead elms or orchard's squatting trees,
Where apples shine sun-tanned and mellow green,
Home comforts for dull winter reveries,
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Calm pleasures thus home-nearing fancy sees,
That maketh banished fancies full amends
As the crook'd footpath at the village ends.
| The Poems of John Clare | |