Shadows of Taste

#JohnClare finding beauty everywhere…

Then village childern seeking after toys
Their clownish hearts & ever heedless eyes
Find  nought in nature they as wealth can prize
With them self interest & the thoughts of gain
Are natures beautys all beside are vain
But he the man of science & of taste
Sees wealth far richer in the worthless waste
Where bits of lichen & a sprig of moss
Will all the raptures of his mind engross
(lines 102-110)

The Firwood

 The fir trees taper into twigs and wear

The rich blue green of summer all the year,

Softening the roughest tempest almost calm
And offering shelter ever still and warm
To the small path that towels underneath,
Where loudest winds - almost as summer's breath -
Scarce fan the weed that lingers green below
When others out of doors are lost in frost and snow.
And sweet the music trembles on the ear
As the wind suthers through each tiny spear,
Makeshifts for leaves; and yet, so rich they show,
Winter is almost summer where they grow.