John Clare
John Clare
John Clarewas an English poet, the son of a farm labourer, who came to be known for his celebratory representations of the English countryside and his lamentation of its disruption. His poetry underwent a major re-evaluation in the late 20th century, and he is now often considered to be among the most important 19th-century poets. His biographer Jonathan Bate states that Clare was "the greatest labouring-class poet that England has ever produced. No one has ever written more powerfully of...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth13 July 1793
The snow has left the cottage top; The thatch moss grows in brighter green; And eaves in quick succession drop, Where grinning icicles have been, Pit-patting with a pleasant noise In tubs set by the cottage door; While duck and geese, with happy joys, Plunge in the yard pond brimming over. The sun peeps through the window pane: Which children mark with laughing eye, And in the wet street steal again To tell each other spring is night.
And fairy month of waking mirth From whom our joys ensue Thou early gladder of the earth Thrice welcome here anew With thee the bud unfolds to leaves The grass greens on the lea And flowers their tender boon receives To bloom and smile with thee.
Forgive me if, in friendship’s way, I offer thee a wreath of May.... [N]ourished by the dews of heaven.... So I have Ivy placed between, To prove that worth is ever green. The little blue Forget-me-not... Spring’s messenger in every spot, Smiling on all—"Remember me!
The thorn tree just began to bud And greening stained the sheltering hedge, An many a violet beside the wood Peeped blue between the withered sedge; The sun gleamed warm the bank beside, 'Twas pleasant wandering out a while Neath nestling bush to lonely hide, Or bend a musings o'er a stile.
Electro World now has a strengthening foothold in markets with a combined population of more than 65 million.
We're all in this together for some period of time,
But we thought long and hard about this.
Love lies beyond / The tomb, the earth, which fades like dew! / I love the fond, / The faithful, and the true.
I am, as far as my politics reaches, 'King and Country' - no 'Innovations in Religion and Government' say I.
And all the charms of face or voice Which I in others see, Are but the recollected choice Of what I feel for thee.
I had a variety of minds about me and all of them unsettled.
I'm John Clare now. I was Byron and Shakespeare formerly.
He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time too well.
We've not seen any glimmer of light. We haven't seen any of our core markets showing any signs of improvement yet.