Poems Chiefly from Manuscript by John Clare
page 64 of 275 (23%)
page 64 of 275 (23%)
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O know you not, O know you not
Twas in my father's park, You led me out a mile too far And courted in the dark? When you did change your ring for mine My yielding heart to win, Though mine was of the beaten gold Yours but of burnished tin, Though mine was all true love without, Yours but false love within? O ask me no more tokens For fast the snow doth fall. Tis sad to strive and speak in vain, You mean to break them all.-- If you are the Maid of Ocram, As I take you not to be, You must mention the third token That passed with you and me.-- Twas when you stole my maidenhead; That grieves me worst of all.-- Begone, you lying creature, then This instant from my hall, Or you and your vile baby Shall in the deep sea fall; For I have none on earth as yet That may me father call.-- |
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