Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd
The tramp
The stolen turnip as he goes along
& hops along & heeds with careless eye
The passing crowded stage coach reeling by
He talks to none but wends his silent way
& finds a hovel at the close of day
Or under any hedge his house is made
He has no calling & he owns no trade
An old smoked blanket arches oer his head
A wisp of straw or stubble makes his bed
#photography #poetry #environment
Rude rags of nature
Grounds of rough fallows wi thistle & weed
Flats & low vallies of king cups & daiseys
Sweetest of subjects are ye for my reed
Ye commons left free in the rude rags of nature
Ye brown heaths be cloathed in furze as ye be
My wild eye in rapture adores e'ery feature
Yere as dear as this heart in my bosom to me
Flats & low vallies of king cups & daiseys
Sweetest of subjects are ye for my reed
Ye commons left free in the rude rags of nature
Ye brown heaths be cloathed in furze as ye be
My wild eye in rapture adores e'ery feature
Yere as dear as this heart in my bosom to me
#photography #poetry #environment
That map of boyhood overcast
After long abscence how the mind recalls
Pleasing associations of the past
Haunts of his youth—thorn hedges & old walls
& hollow trees that sheltered from the blast
& all that map of boyhood overcast
With glooms & wrongs & sorrows not his own
That oer his brow like the scathed lightening past
That turned his spring to winter & alone
Wrecked name & fame & all—to solitude unknown
#photography #poetry #environment
Tracing the lane path
O simple nature how I do delight
To pause upon thy trifles—foolish things
So some woud call em—on the summer night
Tracing the lane path where the dog rose hings
Wi dew drops seathd while chickering cricket sings
My eye cant help but glance upon its leaves
Where loves warm beauty steals her sweetest blush
When sweet the while the even silence heaves
Her pausing breath just trembling thro the bush
#photography #poetry #environment
Their very nakedness I love
I love thee nature in my inmost heart
Go where I will thy truth seems from above
Go where I will thy landscape forms a part
Of heaven—e'en these fens where wood nor grove
Are seen—their very nakedness I love
For one dwells nigh that secret hopes prefer
Above the race of women—like the dove
I mourn her abscence—fate that would deter
My hate for all things—strengthens love for her
#photography #poetry #environment
Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd
Sukey
#photography #poetry #environment
[Image: One of Lady Clementina Hawarden's lovely daughters, photographed around 1860]
Showy corn poppies
& the hare with the morning dew yet on her breast
Jumps away from his hustle & bustle & noise
Which he makes in the midst of his rapture & joys
Now singing & tearing up weeds of all sorts
Showy corn poppys shining like foxhunters coats
& bluecaps & cockleflowers no matter what
To make a gay garland to stick in his hat
& now he struts out what a gesture he wears
As proud of his colours as soldiers of theirs
#photography #poetry #environment
Poppies from my wildflower meadow
Leisure
I went in the fields with the leisure I got
The stranger might smile but I heeded him not
The hovel was ready to screen from a shower
& the book in my pocket was read in an hour
The bird came for shelter but soon flew away
The horse came to look & seemed happy to stay
He stood up in quiet & hung down his head
& seemed to be hearing the poem I read
#photography #poetry #environment
Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd
My illness was love
#photography #poetry #environment
Image by my friend #RachelBurch
Willows over a stream on Dartmoor
Joy or despair
Peggy ye might bin my death wi yer scorning
Im sure tis yer pleasure to do as ye may
For ere sin I helpd ye to milk in the morning
Yeve 'ployd all my thoughts for the rest of the day
Yer sweet slender body so light & so jimping
Yer arms so well shapd & yer brown curley hair
Yer gait so belady like spoilt wi no limping
Left ye the power to gi joy or despair
(from Hodges Confession)
#photography #poetry #environment
Sweet Mary
How could I how should I — that loved her so early
Forget when I've sung of her beauty in song
How could I forget what I've worshiped so dearly
From boyhood to manhood and all my life long
As leaves to the branches in summer comes daily
& blossoms will bloom on the stalk & the tree
To her beauty I'll cling & i'll love her as truly
& think of sweet Mary wherever I be
#photography #poetry #environment
The photo is of Glinton Church where Mary was buried 3 years before Clare wrote the poem.
The nettle
& bye the old barn end they shade the wall
In sunshine nodding to the angry tide
Of winds that winnows bye—these one & all
Makes up the harmony of Spring—& all
That passes feel a sudden love for flowers
They look so green—& when the soft showers fall
They grow so fast—Dock Burdocks Henbane—all
Who loves not wild flowers bye the old stone wall
In sunshine nodding to the angry tide
Of winds that winnows bye—these one & all
Makes up the harmony of Spring—& all
That passes feel a sudden love for flowers
They look so green—& when the soft showers fall
They grow so fast—Dock Burdocks Henbane—all
Who loves not wild flowers bye the old stone wall
#photography #poetry #environment
The dew falls
The Dew falls on the weed & on the flower
The rose & thistle bathe their heads in dew
The lowliest heart may have its prospering hour
The saddest bosom meet its wishes true
E'en I may joy love happiness renew
Though not the sweets of my first early days
When one sweet face was all the loves I knew
& my soul trembled on her eyes to gaze
Whose very censure seemed intended praise
#photography #poetry #environment
Our footsteps
But dreading our footsteps soon vanishd agen
& numbers of creatures apeard in our sight
That live in the silence & sweetness of night
Climbing up the tall grasses or scaling the bough
But these were all namless unoticd till now
& we listnd well pleasd at the guggles & groans
The water made passing the pebbles & stones
& then we turnd up by the rut rifted lane
& sought for our cot & the village again
#photography #poetry #environment
Old Heath
I love to see the old heaths withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze & ling
I love to see the old heaths withered brake
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze & ling
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow & flaps his melancholy wing
& oddling crow in idle motions swing
The fieldfares chatter in the whistling thorn
& for the awe round fields & closen rove
Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze & ling
While the old heron from the lonely lake
Starts slow & flaps his melancholy wing
& oddling crow in idle motions swing
The fieldfares chatter in the whistling thorn
& for the awe round fields & closen rove
& coy bumbarrels twenty in a drove
Flit down the hedgerows in the frozen plain
& hang on little twigs & start again
Flit down the hedgerows in the frozen plain
& hang on little twigs & start again
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