John Clare

To an April Daisy

Welcome, old Comrade! peeping once again;
  Our meeting ’minds me of a pleasant hour:
Spring’s pencil pinks thee in that blushy stain,
  And Summer glistens in thy tinty flower.

Hail, Beauty’s Gem! disdaining time nor place;
  Carelessly creeping on the dunghill’s side;
Demeanour’s softness in thy crimpled face
  Decks thee in beauties unattain’d by pride.

Hail, ’Venturer! once again that fearless here
  Encampeth on the hoar hill’s sunny side;
Spring’s early messenger! thou’rt doubly dear;
  And winter’s frost by thee is well supplied.

Now winter’s frowns shall cease their pelting rage,
  But winter’s woes I need not tell to thee;
Far better luck thy visits well presage,
  And be it thine and mine that luck to see.

Ah, may thy smiles confirm the hopes they tell
  To see thee frost-bit I’d be griev’d at heart;
I meet thee happy, and I wish thee well,
  Till ripening summer summons us to part.

Then like old mates, or two who’ve neighbours been,
  We’ll part, in hopes to meet another year;
And o’er thy exit from this changing scene
  We’ll mix our wishes in a tokening tear.