Her voice
shouted Rodger, like throwing a stone
So give up
old Soldier and let her alone
Go away
with ye Rodger young Man do I see
If you're
an old Soldier you may march on with me.
I went
with the maiden over heath and o'er plain
And when
Sunday was come too, I saw her again
I saw her,
and courted the sun from the West
And left
my last kiss on the mole of her breast.
I kissed,
and we’re married, and bedded and all
And the old
Kirk at Upton
the green wedding saw
For the
grass it was green and our years was the same
And from
morning to Evening none called us to blame
(lines 7-8,
11-20)
The Later Poems of John Clare 1837-1864,
ed.
Eric Robinson and David Powell
(Oxford, 2 volumes, I-II, 1984)
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