Maid of the Wilderness

Maid of the wilderness,
Sweet in thy rural dress,
Fond thy rich lips I press
Under this tree.

Morning her health bestows,
Sprinkles dews on the rose,
That by the bramble grows:
Maid happy be.
Womanhood round thee glows,
Wander with me.

The restharrow blooming,
The sun just a-coming,
Grass and bushes illuming,
And the spreading oak tree;

Come hither, sweet Nelly,

* ********* *

The morning is loosing
Its incense for thee.
The pea-leaf has dews on;
Love wander with me.

We'll walk by the river,
And love more than ever;
There's nought shall dissever
My fondness from thee.

Soft ripples the water,
Flags rustle like laughter,
And fish follow after;
Leaves drop from the tree.
Nelly, Beauty's own daughter,
Love, wander with me.


Anonymous said...

John Clare rocks!! Love Amelia

Anonymous said...

Heyyyaaaaa!! I love John Clare, he is like a god to me. He makes me so happy with such poems as Emmonsale's Heath and December. But when I am in a more sultry mood, I love all his poems about Mary Joyce and the sense of longing, I truly feel John Clare...and I agree with Amelia...whomever she may be? Obviously a legend because John Clare ROCKS my SOCKS. love you John Clare x x x x x x