John Clare

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

John Clare Poems

161. To Anna Three Years Old 4/13/2010
162. To John Clare 1/3/2003
163. To John Milton 4/13/2010
164. To Mary 1/3/2003
165. To Napoleon 4/13/2010
166. Turkeys 4/13/2010
167. What Is Life? 1/3/2003
168. Where She Told Her Love 1/3/2003
169. Wild Bees 4/13/2010
170. Winter Walk 4/13/2010
171. Wood Rides 1/3/2003
172. Written In Northampton County Asylum 1/3/2003
173. Young Lambs 4/13/2010
Best Poem of John Clare

I Am

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never ...

Read the full of I Am


'Now summer is in flower and natures hum
Is never silent round her sultry bloom
Insects as small as dust are never done
Wi' glittering dance and reeling in the sun
And green wood fly and blossom haunting bee
Are never weary of their melody
Round field hedge now flowers in full glory twine
Large bindweed bells wild hop and streakd woodbine
That lift athirst their slender throated flowers

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