Poem by John Clare

The Peasant Poet

He loved the brook's soft sound,
   The swallow swimming by.
He loved the daisy-covered ground,
   The cloud-bedappled sky.
To him the dismal storm appeared
   The very voice of God;
And when the evening rack was reared
   Stood Moses with his rod.
And everything his eyes surveyed,
   The insects in the brake,
Were creatures God Almighty made,
   He loved them for His sake--
A silent man in life's affairs,
   A thinker from a boy,
A peasant in his daily cares,
   A poet in his joy. 

1. Rural Evening
2. The Thrush's Nest
3. The Woodman
4. Ballad
5. Patty

Print

3219 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version