from "Adieu to my false love for ever"

The week before Easter, the days long and clear,

So bright shone the sun and so cool blew the air,
I went in the meadow some flowers to find there,
But the meadow would yield me no posies.

The weather, like love, did deceitful appear,
And I wandered for joy when my sorrow was near,
For the thorn that wounds deeply doth bide the whole year,
When the bush it is naked of roses.

I courted a girl that was handsome and gay,
I thought her as constant and true as the day,
Till she married for riches and said my love nay,
And so my poor heart got requited.

(...)

Now make me a bed in yon river so deep,
Let its waves be my mourners; naught living will weep;
And there let me lie and take a long sleep,
So adieu to my false love for ever.

John Clare and the Folk Tradition (1983)
George Deacon