Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

November

The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a faceBeamless and pale and round, as if the moon,When done..

© John Clare

Nobody Cometh To Woo

On Martinmas eve the dogs did bark,And I opened the window to see,When every maiden went by with her sparkBut neer a one came to me.And O dear what..

© John Clare

Night Wind

Darkness like midnight from the sobbing woodsClamours with dismal tidings of the rainRoaring as rivers breaking loose in floodsTo spread and foam and..

© John Clare

Nature's Hymn To The Deity

All nature owns with one accordThe great and universal Lord:The sun proclaims him through the day,The moon when daylight drops away,The very darkness..

© John Clare

Mouse's Nest

I found a ball of grass among the hayAnd progged it as I passed and went away;And when I looked I fancied something stirred,And turned again and..

© John Clare

Merry Maid

Bonny and stout and brown, without a hat,She frowns offended when they call her fat--Yet fat she is, the merriest in the place,And all can know she..

© John Clare

Meet Me In The Green Glen

Love, meet me in the green glen,Beside the tall elm-tree,Where the sweetbriar smells so sweet agen;There come with me.Meet me in the green glen.Meet..

© John Clare

May

Come queen of months in companyWi all thy merry minstrelsyThe restless cuckoo absent longAnd twittering swallows chimney songAnd hedge row crickets..

© John Clare

Mary Bateman

My love she wears a cotton plaid,A bonnet of the straw;Her cheeks are leaves of roses spread,Her lips are like the haw.In truth she is as sweet a..

© John Clare

Market Day

With arms and legs at work and gentle strokeThat urges switching tail nor mends his pace,On an old ribbed and weather beaten horse,The farmer goes..

© John Clare

Love Lives Beyond The Tomb

Love lives beyondThe tomb, the earth, which fades like dew-I love the fond,The faithful, and the true.Love lies in sleep,The happiness of healthy..

© John Clare

Love Cannot Die

In crime and enmity they lieWho sin and tell us love can die,Who say to us in slander's breathThat love belongs to sin and death.From heaven it came..

© John Clare

Love

Love, though it is not chill and cold,But burning like eternal fire,Is yet not of approaches bold,Which gay dramatic tastes admire.Oh timid love..

© John Clare

Little Trotty Wagtail

Little trotty wagtail he went in the rain,And tittering, tottering sideways he neer got straight again,He stooped to get a worm, and looked up to get..

© John Clare

Letter In Verse

Like boys that run behind the loaded wainFor the mere joy of riding back again,When summer from the meadow carts the hayAnd school hours leave them..

© John Clare

June

'Now summer is in flower and natures humIs never silent round her sultry bloomInsects as small as dust are never doneWi' glittering dance and reeling..

© John Clare

Invitation To Eternity

Say, wilt thou go with me, sweet maid,Say, maiden, wilt thou go with meThrough the valley-depths of shade,Of bright and dark obscurity;Where the path..

© John Clare

Insects

These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard,And happy units of a numerous herdOf playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,Mocking the sunshine on their..

© John Clare

In Summer Showers A Skreeking Noise Is Heard

In summer showers a skreeking noise is heardDeep in the woods of some uncommon birdIt makes a loud and long and loud continued noiseAnd often stops..

© John Clare

In Hilly-Wood

How sweet to be thus nestling deep in boughs,Upon an ashen stoven pillowing me;Faintly are heard the ploughmen at their ploughs,But not an eye can..

© John Clare

Impromptu

'Where art thou wandering, little child?'I said to one I met to-day.--She pushed her bonnet up and smiled,'I'm going upon the green to play:Folks..

© John Clare

Idle Fame

I would not wish the burning blazeOf fame around a restless world,The thunder and the storm of praiseIn crowded tumults heard and hurled.I would not..

© John Clare

I Hid My Love

I hid my love when young till ICouldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;I hid my love to my despiteTill I could not bear to look at light;I dare not gaze..

© John Clare

I Dreamt Of Robin

I opened the casement this morn at starlight,And, the moment I got out of bed,The daisies were quaking about in their whiteAnd the cowslip was..

© John Clare

I Am

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,My friends forsake me like a memory lost;I am the self-consumer of my woes,They rise and vanish in oblivious..

© John Clare