The Poetry Corner

A Specimen of Clare's rough drafts

By John Clare

A Specimen of Clare's rough drafts In a huge cloud of mountain hue The sun sets dark nor shudders through One single beam to shine again Tis night already in the lane The settled clouds in ridges lie And some swell mountains calm and high Clouds rack and drive before the wind In shapes and forms of every kind Like waves that rise without the roars And rocks that guard untrodden shores Now castles pass majestic bye And ships in peaceful havens lie These gone ten thousand shapes ensue For ever beautiful and new The scattered clouds lie calm and still And day throws gold on every hill Their thousand heads in glorys run As each were worlds and owned a sun The rime it clings to every thing It beards the early buds of spring The mossy pales the orchard spray Are feathered with its silver grey Rain drizzles in the face so small We scarce can say it rains at all The cows turned to the pelting rain No longer at their feed remain But in the sheltering hovel hides That from two propping dotterels strides The sky was hilled with red and blue With lighter shadows waking through Till beautiful and beaming day Shed streaks of gold for miles away The linnet stopt her song to clean Her spreading wings of yellow green And turn his head as liking well To smooth the dropples as they fell One scarce could keep one's path aright From gazing upward at the sight The boys for wet are forced to pass The cuckoo flowers among the grass To hasten on as well they may For hedge or tree or stack of hay Where they for shelter can abide Safe seated by its sloping side That by the blackthorn thicket cowers A shelter in the strongest showers The gardens golden gilliflowers Are paled with drops of amber showers Dead leaves from hedges flirt about The chaff from barn doors winnows out And down without a wing to flye As fast as bees goes sailing bye The feather finds a wing to flye And dust in wirl puffs winnows bye When the rain at midday stops Spangles glitter in the drops And as each thread a sunbeam was Cobwebs glitter in the grass The sheep all loaded with the rain Try to shake it off in vain And ere dryed by wind and sun The load will scarcely let them run The shepherds foot is sodden through And leaves will clout his brushing shoe The buttercups in gold alloyed And daiseys by the shower destroyed The sun is overcast clouds lie And thicken over all the sky Crows morn and eve will flock in crowds To fens and darken like the clouds So many is their cumberous flight The dull eve darkens into night Clouds curl and curdle blue and grey And dapple the young summers day Through the torn woods the violent rain Roars and rattles oer the plain And bubbles up in every pool Till dykes and ponds are brimming full The thickening clouds move slowly on Till all the many clouds are one That spreads oer all the face of day And turns the sunny shine to grey Now the meadow water smokes And hedgerows dripping oaks Fitter patter all around And dimple the once dusty ground The spinners threads about the weeds Are hung with little drops in beads Clover silver green becomes And purple blue surrounds the plumbs And every place breaths fresh and fair When morning pays her visit there The day is dull the heron trails On flapping wings like heavy sails And oer the mead so lowly swings She fans the herbage with her wings The waterfowl with suthering wings Dive down the river splash and spring Up to the very clouds again That sprinkle scuds of coming rain That flye and drizzle all the day Till dripping grass is turned to grey The various clouds that move or lye Like mighty travellers in the sky All mountainously ridged or curled That may have travelled round the world The water ruckles into waves And loud the neighbouring woodland raves All telling of the coming storm That fills the village with alarm Ere yet the sun is two hours high Winds find all quarters of the sky With sudden shiftings all around And now the grass upon the ground And now the leaves they wirl and wirl With many a flirting flap and curl