All Poems

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Clock-O'-Clay

© John Clare

In the cowslip pips I lie,
Hidden from the buzzing fly,
While green grass beneath me lies,
Pearled with dew like fishes' eyes,
Here I lie, a clock-o'-clay,
Waiting for the time o' day.

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Insects

© John Clare

These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard,
And happy units of a numerous herd
Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings,
Mocking the sunshine on their glittering wings,

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Evening

© John Clare

'Tis evening; the black snail has got on his track,
And gone to its nest is the wren,
And the packman snail, too, with his home on his back,
Clings to the bowed bents like a wen.

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Song's Eternity

© John Clare

What is song's eternity?
Come and see.
Can it noise and bustle be?
Come and see.

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The Thrush's Nest

© John Clare

Within a thick and spreading hawthorn bush
That overhung a molehill large and round,
I heard from morn to morn a merry thrush
Sing hymns to sunrise, and I drank the sound

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Alone

© Maya Angelou

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

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May

© John Clare

Come queen of months in company
Wi all thy merry minstrelsy
The restless cuckoo absent long
And twittering swallows chimney song

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Confidence

© George MacDonald

Lie down upon the ground, thou hopeless one!

Press thy face in the grass, and do not speak.

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Where She Told Her Love

© John Clare

I saw her crop a rose
Right early in the day,
And I went to kiss the place
Where she broke the rose away

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Sonnet XXII: Heart's Haven

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Sometimes she is a child within mine arms,

Cowering beneath dark wings that love must chase,—

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Remembrances

© John Clare

Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one
And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart and eye and for ever far away

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The Charm

© Edith Nesbit

LIKE crimson lamps the tulips swing,
The lily flowers their incense bring,
The daisies votive garlands fling
Before the altar of the Spring.

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The Maple Tree

© John Clare

The Maple with its tassell flowers of green
That turns to red, a stag horn shapèd seed
Just spreading out its scallopped leaves is seen,
Of yellowish hue yet beautifully green.

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A Fable

© James Russell Lowell

Two fellers, Isrel named and Joe,
One Sundy mornin' 'greed to go
Agunnin' soon 'z the bells wuz done
And meetin' finally begun,
So'st no one wouldn't be about
Ther Sabbath-breakin' to spy out.

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The Flood

© John Clare

On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonely mood
I've seen the winter floods their gambols play
Through each old arch that trembled while I stood
Bent o'er its wall to watch the dashing spray

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To F.W.F.

© James Clerk Maxwell

Farrar, when o’er Goodwin’s page

Late I found thee poring,

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November

© John Clare

The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon;
And, if the sun looks through, 'tis with a face
Beamless and pale and round, as if the moon,
When done the journey of her nightly race,

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Colour Studies {At Dieppe}

© Arthur Symons

The grey-green stretch of sandy grass,
Indefinitely desolate;
A sea of lead, a sky of slate;
Already autumn in the air, alas!

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The Nightingale's Nest

© John Clare

Up this green woodland-ride let's softly rove,
And list the nightingale— she dwells just here.
Hush ! let the wood-gate softly clap, for fear
The noise might drive her from her home of love ;

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Why Blossoms Fall

© Alma Frances McCollum

Dear Mother Earth her children trees
Clad well in robes of white,
That they may rest in perfect peace
Through all the winter night.