The morning wakens with the lumping frails
Chilly & cold — the early rising clown
Hurkles along & blows his finger nails
Iceicles from the cottage eves hang down
Which passing childern wish for in their play
— The fields once clad in autumns russet brown
Spreads like the eye its circle far away
In one hugh sheet of snow — from the white wood
The crows all silent seek the dreary fens
& starnels blacken through the air in crowds
The sheep stand bleating in their turnip pens
& loath their frozen food—while labouring men
Button their coats more close from angry clouds
& wish for night & its snug fire agen

The Poems of John Clare
ed. J. W. Tibble (2 volumes, Dent, 1935)

[Image: Carry Akroyd]

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