 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
330
FIELD PATH
The beans in blossom with their spots of jetSmelt sweet as gardens wheresoever met;
The level meadow grass was in the swath;
The hedge-brier rose hung right across the path,
White over with its flowers; the grass that lay
Bleaching beneath the twittering heat to hay
Smelt so deliciously, the puzzled bee
Went wondering where the honey sweets could be;
And passer-by along the level rows
Stoopt down and whipt a bit beneath his nose.
| The Poems of John Clare | |