Summer Images (III)

The green-swathed grasshopper, on treble pipe,
Sings there, and dances, in mad-hearted pranks;
There bees go courting every flower that's ripe,
On baulks and sunny banks;
And droning dragon-fly, on rude bassoon,
Attempts to give God thanks
In no discordant tune.

There speckled thrush, by self-delight embued,
There sings unto himself for joy's amends,
And drinks the honey dew of solitude.
There happiness attends
With inbred joy until the heart oerflow,
Of which the world's rude friends,
Nought heeding, nothing know.
(tbc) Posted by Hello


Anonymous said...

Hi Roger

I need to ask you a question re one of Clare's poems, please could you send me your e-mail address?

Many thanks

Anonymous said...