Sunday Poetry – John Clare

Another poem by John Clare this week. After over a week of hot days & no rain in sight, I’m looking for a little wish fulfillment. A cool early Spring day in the English countryside is just what I need to imagine during a Melbourne summer. The Pale Sun is something I can only dream about at this time of year.
I’ve also discovered this lovely blog about the life & works of John Clare. I’m going to enjoy exploring the archive over the next little while.

Pale sunbeams gleam
That nurtur a few flowers
Pilewort & daisey & a sprig o’ green
On whitethorn bushes
In the leaf srewn hedge

These harbingers
Tell spring is coming fast
& these the schoolboy marks
& wastes an hour from school
Agen the old pasture hedge

Cropping the daisey
& the pilewort flowers
Pleased with the Spring & all he looks upon
He opes his spelling book
& hides her blossoms there

Shadows fall dark
Like black in the pale sun
& lye the bleak day long
Like black stock under hedges
& bare wind rocked trees

‘Tis chill but pleasant – 
In the hedge bottom lined
With brown seer leaves the last
Year littered there & left
Mopes the hedge sparrow

With trembling wings & cheeps
Its welcome to pale sunbeams
Creeping through – & further on
Made of green moss
The nest & green-blue eggs are seen

All token spring & every day
Green & more green hedges & close
& everywhere appears –
Still ’tis March
But still that March is Spring

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