 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
372
BREAK OF DAY
The lark he rises early,
And the ploughman goes away
Before it's morning fairly
At the guessing break of day;
The fields lie in the dawning,
And the valley's hid in gold,
At the pleasant time of morning
When the shepherd goes to fold.
And the ploughman goes away
Before it's morning fairly
At the guessing break of day;
The fields lie in the dawning,
And the valley's hid in gold,
At the pleasant time of morning
When the shepherd goes to fold.
The maiden laughs and hollos
When she sees the feeding cows;
They switch their tails and follow
When she can't get over sloughs;
I love the gentle dawning,
And the valleys hid in gold,
At the pleasant time of morning
When the shepherd goes to fold.
When she sees the feeding cows;
They switch their tails and follow
When she can't get over sloughs;
I love the gentle dawning,
And the valleys hid in gold,
At the pleasant time of morning
When the shepherd goes to fold.
| The Poems of John Clare | |