John Clare

(13 July 1793 – 20 May 1864 / Northamptonshire / England)

Poems of John Clare

161. To John Clare 1/3/2003
162. To John Milton 4/13/2010
163. To Mary 1/3/2003
164. To Napoleon 4/13/2010
165. Turkeys 4/13/2010
166. What is Life? 1/3/2003
167. Where She Told Her Love 1/3/2003
168. Wild Bees 4/13/2010
169. Winter Walk 4/13/2010
170. Wood Rides 1/3/2003
171. Written in Northampton County Asylum 1/3/2003
172. Young Lambs 4/13/2010

To John Clare

Well, honest John, how fare you now at home?
The spring is come, and birds are building nests;
The old cock-robin to the sty is come,
With olive feathers and its ruddy breast;
And the old cock, with wattles and red comb,
Struts with the hens, and seems to like some best,
Then crows, and looks about for little crumbs,
Swept out by little folks an hour ago;
The pigs sleep in the sty; the bookman comes--

[Hata Bildir]