Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away””

— John Clare

“Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rudeAnd fled to the silence of sweet solitude.””

— John Clare

“I hid my love when young till ICouldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;I hid my life to my despiteTill I could not bear to look at light:I dare not gaze upon her faceBut left her memory in each place;Where'er I saw a wild flower lieI kissed and bade my love good-bye.””

— John Clare

“Say, wilt thou go with me, sweet maid,Say, maiden, wilt thou go with meThrough the valley-depths of shade, Of bright and dark obscurity; Where the path has lost its way, Where the sun forgets the day, Where there's nor light nor life to see, Sweet maiden, wilt thou go with me? Where stones will turn to flooding streams, Where plains will rise like ocean's waves, Where life will fade like visioned dreams And darkness darken into caves, Say, maiden, wilt thou go with meThrough this sad non-identity Where parents live and are forgot, And sisters live and know us not? Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me In this strange death of life to be, To live in death and be the same,Without this life or home or name, At once to be and not to be”

— John Clare

“My illness was love, though I knew not the smart, But the beauty of love was the blood of my heart.””

— John Clare

“Hill tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun, And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run; Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.””

— John Clare

“I ne’er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet, Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale as deadly pale, My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked, what could I ail? My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away, The trees and bushes round the placeSeemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start”

— John Clare

“In crime and enmity they lie Who sin and tell us love can die, Who say to us in slander's breath That love belongs to sin and death.””

— John Clare

“I hate the very noise of troublous man Who did and does me all the harm he can. Free from the world I would a prisoner be And my own shadow all my company.””

— John Clare