John Clare

If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs.

If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs.

Loud is the summer's busy song
The smallest breeze can find a tongue,
While insects of each read more

Loud is the summer's busy song
The smallest breeze can find a tongue,
While insects of each tiny size
Grow teasing with their melodies,
Till noon burns with its blistering breath
Around, and day lies still as death.

Tasteful illumination of the night,
Bright scattered, twinkling star of spangled earth.

Tasteful illumination of the night,
Bright scattered, twinkling star of spangled earth.

Old noted oak! I saw thee in a mood
Of vague indifference; and yet with me
Thy read more

Old noted oak! I saw thee in a mood
Of vague indifference; and yet with me
Thy memory, like thy fate, hath lingering stood
For years, thou hermit, in the lonely sea
Of grass that waves around thee!

Now musing o'er the changing scene
Farmers behind the tavern screen
Collect; with elbows idly press'd
read more

Now musing o'er the changing scene
Farmers behind the tavern screen
Collect; with elbows idly press'd
On hob, reclines the corner's guest,
Reading the news to mark again
The bankrupt lists or price of grain.
Puffing the while his red-tipt pipe
He dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe,
Yet, winter's leisure to regale,
Hopes better times, and sips his ale.