 | The Poems of John Clare |  |
122
LIFE IN LONE PLACES
I've felt the loneliest pictures in my mindWhen in a nook, a very dread by day,
I've found a scarce-dead night-fire left behind
Where robbers hurdled or where gipsies lay;
And I have turned me round a different way,
Half fearing lest a danger lingered still,
And almost dreaded further on to stray
Lest lurking mischief hid, devising ill;
Feeling like someone in a dreadful book,
Thinking how dismal such a spot would be
In midnight darkness, when lone travellers look
Up to their hands and yet can nothing see,
While all is black and deep and still as death,
And fear e'en startles at its stifled breath.
| The Poems of John Clare | |