But, little lingerers, old esteem detains
Ye haply thus to brave the chilly air
When skies grow dull with winter's heavy rains
And all the orchard trees are nearly bare;
Yet the old chimneys still are peeping there
Above the russet thatch where summer's tide
Of sunny joys gave you such social fare
As makes you haply wishing to abide
In your old dwelling through the changing year.
I wish ye well to find a dwelling here,
For in the unsocial weather ye would fling
Gleanings of comfort through the winter wide,
Twittering as wont above the old fireside,
And cheat the surly winter into spring.
Posts
1 comment:
Hello John Clare,
I love the poem. As I was sitting on my porch late yesterday afternoon, I noticed a swallow or chimney sweep coming from the chimney of the old house just across the way from the house where we now live. The old house was built prior to 1810 and we have hopes of restoring it some day.
Anyhow, reading your poem and seeing the sweet bird gives me pause to hope that a family of birds will choose our old house to reside this winter. I'll be watchful of them.
Thanks for the poem.
Diane in North Carolina
Post a Comment