Poems Chiefly from Manuscript by John Clare
page 70 of 275 (25%)
page 70 of 275 (25%)
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--And thou'st got leave to spend an hour!
My heart repeated.--She was gone; --And thou hast heard the thorn's in flower, And childhood's bliss is urging on: Ah, happy child! thou mak'st me sigh, This once as happy heart of mine, Would nature with the boon comply, How gladly would I change for thine. _The Wood-cutter's Night Song_ Welcome, red and roundy sun, Dropping lowly in the west; Now my hard day's work is done, I'm as happy as the best. Joyful are the thoughts of home, Now I'm ready for my chair, So, till morrow-morning's come, Bill and mittens, lie ye there! Though to leave your pretty song, Little birds, it gives me pain, Yet to-morrow is not long, Then I'm with you all again. If I stop, and stand about, Well I know how things will be, Judy will be looking out |
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