The Poetry Corner

Helpstone Church-Yard.

By John Clare

What makes me love thee now, thou dreary scene, And see in each swell'd heap a peaceful bed? I well remember that the time has been, To walk a church-yard when I us'd to dread; And shudder'd, as I read upon the stone Of well-known friends and next-door-neighbours gone. But then I knew no cloudy cares of life, Where ne'er a sunbeam comes to light me thorough; A stranger then to this world's storms and strife, Where ne'er a charm is met to lull my sorrow: I then was blest, and had not eyes to see Life's future change, and Fate's severe to-morrow; When all those ills and pains should compass me, With no hope left but what I meet in thee.