And fairy month of waking mirth From whom our joys ensue Thou early gladder of the earth Thrice welcome here anew With thee the bud unfolds to leaves The grass greens on the lea And flowers their tender boon receives To bloom and smile with thee.
I found the poems in the fields And only wrote them down - John Clare
I found the poems in the fields And only wrote them down
- John Clare
I ne'er was struck before that hour with love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower and stole my heart away complete - John Clare
I ne'er was struck before that hour with love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower and stole my heart away complete
Summer is a prodigal of joy. The grass Swarms with delighted insects as I pass, And crowds of grasshoppers at every stride Jump out all ways with hap… - John Clare
Summer is a prodigal of joy. The grass Swarms with delighted insects as I pass, And crowds of grasshoppers at every stride Jump out all ways with hap…
The best way to avoid a bad action is by doing a good one, for there is no difficulty in the world like that of trying to do nothing. - John Clare
The best way to avoid a bad action is by doing a good one, for there is no difficulty in the world like that of trying to do nothing.
For Nature is love, and finds haunts for true love, Where nothing can hear or intrude; It hides from the eagle and joins with the dove, In beautiful … - John Clare
For Nature is love, and finds haunts for true love, Where nothing can hear or intrude; It hides from the eagle and joins with the dove, In beautiful …
The present is the funeral of the past, And man the living sepulchre of life. - John Clare
The present is the funeral of the past, And man the living sepulchre of life.
Love lives with Nature, not with lust. Go find her in the flowers. - John Clare
Love lives with Nature, not with lust. Go find her in the flowers.
And what is Life? - An hour-glass on the run - John Clare
And what is Life? - An hour-glass on the run
I long for scenes where man has never trod;... There to abide with my Creator, God. - John Clare
I long for scenes where man has never trod;... There to abide with my Creator, God.
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