O Thrice Lucky Town

[Image: 'The Saviour is Born' by Vitali Linitsky]
O thrice lucky town (the more lucky poor creatures)
Who ere could have thought that such luck would be thine
Such a stranger as thou art to things o' like nature
But time bringeth all things to pass—so its sighing

& O' what a blessing o' poor peoples sides
Who just before this were near pining to dead
That his Lordship’s great goodness condescends to provide
An odd sort of something that they may be fed

What a good Christian heart must his honour possess
To 'mean him so low when so high riches rank him
In giving this hodgepodge—they cant do no less
Then down on their knappers & twenty times thank him

And benevolent charity sure such as this is
'll set others a going for the good o poor ce'turs
And warm squeezing Mizers to open their fis'es
And soften the wit-leather hearts of our betters

The Early Poems of John Clare 1804-1822
ed. Eric Robinson, David Powell and Margaret Grainger
(Oxford, 2 volumes, I-II, 1989)

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