When out an old mouse bolted in the wheats
With all her young ones hanging at her teats;
—John Clare (1793–1864)
In the cowslips peeps I lie,
Hidden from the buzzing fly,
While green grass beneath me lies,
Pearled wi’ dew like fishes’ eyes,
Here I lye, a clock-a-clay,
Waiting for the time o’ day.
—John Clare (1793–1864)
Hesperus thy twinkling ray
Beams in the blue of heaven
And tells the traveller on his way
That earth shall be forgiven
—John Clare (1793–1864)