The wood rides as wont wound beneath the oak bough
Still tempting the eye that admires to rove on
But stranger feet with in their lonliness now
& their old fellow hermits that lovd them are gone
The birds in the gardens shades nesting among
As fond of their neighbours that used to dwell bye
Hear strange voices now & stop short in the song
& startled peep down of fresh faces flye
Daily #JohnClare postings
#photography #poetry #environment
Images by my friend #CarryAkroyd
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