Learn More

John Clare

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

Gipsies


The snow falls deep; the forest lies alone;
The boy goes hasty for his load of brakes,
Then thinks upon the fire and hurries back;
The gipsy knocks his hands and tucks them up,
And seeks his squalid camp, half hid in snow,
Beneath the oak which breaks away the wind,
And bushes close in snow-like hovel warm;
There tainted mutton wastes upon the coals,
And the half-wasted dog squats close and rubs,
Then feels the heat too strong, and goes aloof;
He watches well, but none a bit can spare,
And vainly waits the morsel thrown away.
Tis thus they live--a picture to the place,
A quiet, pilfering, unprotected race.

Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Do you like this poem?
2 person liked.
1 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Gipsies by John Clare )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
  2. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  3. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  4. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  5. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
  6. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  7. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  8. Acquainted with the Night, Robert Frost
  9. A Prayer To Mother Nature., Marcondes Pereira
  10. Dreams, Langston Hughes

Poem of the Day

poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti

A little while a little love
The hour yet bears for thee and me
Who have not drawn the veil to see
If still our heaven be lit above.
Thou merely, at the day's last sigh,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]