The crimpling snow


I never want the grass to bloom

The snow-storm's best in white
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow white meadows sees the Spring
I love the snow the crimpling snow
That hangs on every thing
It covers every thing below

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Wild & neglected


& tho thou seemst a weedling wild
Wild & neglected like to me
Thou still art dear to natures child
& I will stoop to notice thee
For oft like thee in wild retreat
Aray'd in humble garb like thee
Theres many a seeming weed proves sweet
As sweet as garden flowers can be

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Trees shadow reaches


Mary when trees shadow reaches
Staulkingly across the plain
Thine & mine when evening stretches
Like two giants oer the plain
Thens the time the pleasures stealeth
Which I often wish to see
Thens the time my bosom feeleth
All its joy belongs to thee

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Deliciousness of solitude


All the deliciousness of solitude 
While sauntering noisless oer the leafy ground 
The air we breath seems loosing every trace 
Of earth & all its trouble & the mind 
Yearns for a dwelling in so sweet a place 
From troubles noise such stillness seemeth bye
Yet soon the side brings some unwelcome spire 
To bid the charm of solitude retire 

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Her cheering ray


How sweet the moon extends her cheering ray
To damp the terors of the darksome night
Guiding the lonley Trav'ller on his way
Pointing the path that leads his Journey right
Hail welcome blessing to thy silver light
That charms dull night & makes its horrors gay

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd

Refreshing powers


Theres more then music in this early wind 
Awaking like a bird refreshed from sleep 
& joy what Adam might in Eden find 
When he with angels did communion keep 
It breaths all balm & insence from the sky 
Blessing the husbandman with freshening powers 
Joys manna from its wings doth fall & lie 
Harvests for early wakers with the flowers

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The mossy ground


The village close & green for play renownd
The hedgerow bank where oft in searching ken
We both have crawld along the mossy ground
To hunt the snailhorn in his secret den
The thymy seated hill the hoof plod ground
Whose batterd surface ownd the marble ring
The straggling bush where many a nest was found
The shelterd hovel & the bathing spring

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Oer the heath


Here oft though grass & moss are seen 
Tannd brown for want of showers 
Still keeps the ling its darksome green 
Thick set with little flowers 
& yonder mingling oer the heath 
The furze delights to dwell 
Whose blossoms steal the summers breath 
& shed a sultry smell 
Here threatning ploughs have tried in vain 
To till the sandy soil 
Yon slope already sown with grain 
Shows nature mocks the toil

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Brimming dykes


The dullest scenes are not so dull

As thoughts I cannot tell
The brimming dykes are not so full
As my heart’s silent swell
I leave my troubles to the winds
With none to share a part
The only joy my feeling finds
Hides in an aching heart

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Blazing shadows


As gleaming suns that twitter while they gleam

& dance their blazing shadows in the stream
Were small black moths dip light their fluttering wings
& heedless fishes leap in bouncing springs
Curving the flood tho winds withold their breath
In ceasless eddies with their playfull mirth
Then free from bother of entangling weeds
As we throw in were clear the stream proceeds

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Like hovel warm


The snow falls deep the Forest lies alone
The boy goes hasty for his load of brakes
Then thinks upon the fire & hurries back
The Gipsy knocks his hands & tucks them up
& seeks his squalid camp half hid in snow
Beneath the oak which breaks away the wind
& bushes close with snow like hovel warm

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Roozy and bright


My wish now's to sit in a cottage made snug
By a fire burning roozy and bright
With a Friend to make shorter short days by a Jug
And some Books for amusement at night
And could I enjoy such a peaceable lot
I'd ne'er cast on Fortune a frown
Nor would I possesing my Friend, Books, and Cott
Exchange 'em away for a — Crown!

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Kites high overhead


Nay some have witnessd as they passd that way
Grey owlets whooping in the very day
& in the trees that did their shadows fling
Close to the door the noisey crows in spring
Woud build their nests unscard when she was bye
& tho they saw her never car’d to flye
& some like kites high overhead woud watch
Tho she’d no chickens in her yard to catch

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd

Full & brimming


The floods come oer the meadow leas
The dykes are full & brimming
Field furrows reach the horses knees
Where wild ducks oft are swimming
The skies are black the fields are bare
The trees their coats are loosing
The leaves are dancing in the air
The sun its warmth refusing

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Approach of rain


The cat runs races with her tail. The dog

Leaps oer the orchard hedge and knarls the grass.
The swine run round and grunt and play with straw,
Snatching out hasty mouthfuls from the stack.
Sudden upon the elmtree tops the crow
Unceremonious visit pays and croaks,
Then swops away. From mossy barn the owl
Bobs hasty out--wheels round and, scared as soon,
As hastily retires. The ducks grow wild
And from the muddy pond fly up and wheel
A circle round the village and soon, tired,
Plunge in the pond again. The maids in haste
Snatch from the orchard hedge the mizzled clothes
And laughing hurry in to keep them dry

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Wealth far richer


#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

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Waiting for Jane


We stand by the brook by the gate & the stile

While the even star hangs out his lamp in the sky
& on her calm face dwells a sweet sunny smile
While her soul fondly speaks through the light of her eye
Sweet are the moments while waiting for Jane
'T’is her footsteps I hear coming down the green lane

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The wood robin


Here the wood robin rustling on the leaves
With fluttering step each visitor recieves
Yet from his ancient home he seldom stirs
In heart content on these dead teazle burs
He sits [&] trembles oer his under notes
So rich—joy almost choaks his little throat
With extacy & from his own heart flows
That joy himself & partner only knows

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Nobody comets to woo?


On Martinmas eve the dogs did bark,

And I opened the window to see,
When every maiden went by with her spark
But ne’er a one came to me.
And O dear what will become of me?
And O dear what shall I do,
When nobody whispers to marry me—
Nobody cometh to woo?

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Dazzling light


I love the snow the crumpling snow

That hangs on everything
It covers everything below
Like white doves brooding wing
A landscape to the aching sight
A vast expanse of dazzling light

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