The wild woodbine

An innocent rural poem?  One of Clare’s early sensuous verses?  

Quite common in his early output, but frowned upon by his publisher.  Very few ever got published.  However here he is much later… reliving his youth?

I wish I was the wild woodbine

Twining round the white thorn bough
I wish I was the wild hedge rose
Upon thy bonny bosom now
To feel thy thumb & finger nip
About my twisted stem
The flowers now toutch thy ruby lip
To kiss their mornings gem

My flowers would kiss those lips o' thine
That kiss'd the dewdrops made divine

I wish I was what I am not
The wild flower nodding on the Lea
To win thy notice on the spot
& touch thy bosom fond and free
To touch thy bosom lily white
To kiss thy shoulders marble bright
& in thy bosom dwell
To be thy hearts one whole delight
In thought and sense as well

My hearts one love could I but be
A flower I'd gaze my soul on thee

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