The cocks have now the morn foretold,
     The sun again begins to peep,
The shepherd, whistling to his fold,
     Unpens and frees the captive sheep.
O’er pathless plains at early hours
     The sleepy rustic sloomy goes;
The dews, brushed off from grass and flowers,
     Bemoistening sop his hardened shoes

While every leaf that forms a shade,
     And every floweret’s silken top,
And every shivering bent and blade,
     Stoops, bowing with a diamond drop.
But soon shall fly those diamond drops,
     The red round sun advances higher,
And, stretching o’er the mountain tops,
     Is gilding sweet the village-spire.

’Tis sweet to meet the morning breeze,
     Or list the gurgling of the brook;
Or, stretched beneath the shade of trees,
     Peruse and pause on Nature’s book,
When Nature every sweet prepares
     To entertain our wished delay,—
The images which morning wears,
     The wakening charms of early day!

Now let me tread the meadow paths
     While glittering dew the ground illumes,
As, sprinkled o’er the withering swaths,
     Their moisture shrinks in sweet perfumes;
And hear the beetle sound his horn;
     And hear the skylark whistling nigh,
Sprung from his bed of tufted corn,
     A haling minstrel from the sky. 

John Clare    (1793 – 1864)



5 thoughts on “SUMMER MORNING

  1. Another beautiful image scene described in verse.
    Top of the day to you Laird

  2. Well… part of the temptation of Italy is to experience the food.  Have you been there?  I\’ve been no where so I really don\’t know how any of it would be.  But if I had unlimited time and money, of course, I would want to see all of Europe.  I\’ll probably never get to do any of it any way… so no worries. 
    It is another very nice poem you posted.  Makes me want to go experience a morning NOT in the city.  Take care…

  3. What a lovely piece.
    Hope you are well and enjoying the sunshine.
    With warm hugs from me.

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