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Summer Tints
by
John Clare


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How sweet I've wander'd bosom-deep in grain,
When Summer's mellowing pencil sweeps his shade
Of ripening tinges o'er the checquer'd plain:
Light tawny oat-lands with a yellow blade;
And bearded corn, like armies on parade;
Beans lightly scorch'd, that still preserve their green;
And nodding lands of wheat in bleachy brown;
And streaking banks, where many a maid and clown
Contrast a sweetness to the rural scene,--
Forming the little haycocks up and down:
While o'er the face of nature softly swept
The ling'ring wind, mixing the brown and green
So sweet, that shepherds from their bowers have crept,
And stood delighted musing o'er the scene.


This poem is in the public domain.

 


John Clare (1793 - 1864) was born to a poor, working class family in England. His life as an uneducated peasant farmer was one of constant struggle and hardships, yet his poetry is wonderfully inspiring. John was a "poetic environmentalist," in awe of the natural world, and nature is the theme of much of his work. His poetic talent earned him access to London's literary circles, though his inferior social standing kept him from ever truly joining its ranks. Tragically, John spent the last twenty years of his life in a mental asylum, though he continued to write and produce poetry that some critics laud as some of the 19th century's best work. Learn more about John Clare here.

 

 


Post New Comment:
Jancan:
Reading John Clare's MASTERPIECE has imbued my day with a lovely hue. This is my kind of poetry!
Posted 03/08/2024 09:28 AM
EstherJ:
A beautiful poem! The word pictures are inspiring. If his life was so depressing maybe such uplifting poems were his way of creating some good, or reminding himself of the good parts of life that can get lost in all the hardship and worry.
Posted 03/07/2024 12:55 PM
michael escoubas:
Colors and near-perfect diction and rhyme. Wonderful post, Jayne. There is still room for the classical sonnet.
Posted 03/07/2024 12:09 PM
Larry Schug:
I often fail to think of these two century ago poets as what they are--just people. What would it be like to be live such a tragic life, yet write with such beauty?
Posted 03/07/2024 07:43 AM
Jonesy:
Now, that's what I call poetry! Brilliant!
Posted 03/07/2024 05:14 AM


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