from 'The Parish'


Clare prophetically commenting on the current government?

Deceptions aimd at ignorance alone
Empty as frothing bubbles on the stream
Or shadowy banquets in a beggars dream
Ruins the mark the motly monster bears
& vile hypocrisy the mask it wears
Cant as high priest around its alter prays
& preaches loud its mockery of praise
Oer blinded minds its poison quickly runs
But shrinks in mist from reasons searching suns
To those gilt Dagons knaves & fools may raise
Deceptions alters of decieving praise
& paint their claims as interest wills to paint
Call each a god a devil or a saint

(lines 1048-1059)

Written between 1820 and 1824, and added to in the following years, 'The Parish a Satire' remained largely unpublished [I WONDER why] until the Tibbles edition in 1935.  Clare thought it, "the best thing in my own mind that I have ever written & I mean to take some pains in altering & making it better still if I can" (Letters p377)

Summer evening

The frog half fearful jumps across the path, 
And little mouse that leaves its hole at eve 
Nimbles with timid dread beneath the swath; 
My rustling steps awhile their joys deceive, 
Till past, -- and then the cricket sings more strong, 
And grasshoppers in merry moods still wear 
The short night weary with their fretting song. 
Up from behind the molehill jumps the hare, 
Cheat of his chosen bed, and from the bank 
The yellowhammer flutters in short fears 
From off its nest hid in the grasses rank, 
And drops again when no more noise it hears. 
Thus nature's human link and endless thrall, 
Proud man, still seems the enemy of all. 


MP IV 147
Printed in the Stamford Champion - 20 April 1830

By lonesom Woods & Unfrequented Streams























[Image: Shelly Rolinson]

By lonesom Woods & Unfrequented Streams
How oft I stretch me in the Silent Shade
Hopefully Wishing in some pleasing dreams
To Catch a 'zemblance of the lovley Maid
But ah I lay me on the Ground in vain
Waking or Sleeping—be it as It will
Distressing Scenes disturb my Frantic Brain
& Grief & Anguish my Companions still
Nay even when my Flimsy hope prevails
& I to Clasp her stretch my arms in vain
In that Fond Moment the False Vision fails
& Waking leaves me to severer pain
O Wheres the Man that lives to mourn like me
& in vain Sighs to Waste his lingering Breath
When easy Ways are known to set him free
& make him happy in the arms of Death

EP I 219 (excerpt)

For her (...) I loved her (...)

[Image : Anne Lee]

For her for one whose very name is yet
My hell or heaven—& will ever be
Falsehood is doubt—but I can ne'er forget
Oaths virtuous falsehood volunteered to me
To make my soul new bonds which God made free
Gods gift is love & do I wrong the giver
To place affections wrong from Gods decree

—Now when farewell upon my lips did quiver
& all seemed lost—I loved her more then ever


I loved her in all climes beneath the sun
Her name was like a jewel in my heart
Twas heavens own choice—& so Gods will be done
Love ties that keep unbroken cannot part
Nor can cold abscence sever or desert
That simple beauty blessed with matchless charms
Oceans have rolled between us—not to part
E'en Icelands snows true loves delirium warms
For there Ive dreamed—& Mary filled my arms

(Child Harold, lines 291 - 308)

Haunted Pond (excerpt)

O superstition terryfying power

Thou dithering agent of Nights solemn hour

How (when pitch darkness glooms the awful night)

Thy dithering terrors rush upon the sight

Then the grim terrors of thy haunting train

Swim thro the gloom & stalk along the plain

Then all the horrid forms the eye can see

Which fancy moulds are realizd by thee

Here murder shudders on with giant stride

& heedless spirits cringes by his side

The calls of mercy—helpless wails of woe
Are still heard howling in the woods below
The bloody stainings undefacd by time
Still dyes the grass a witness to the crime
Now silent forms in musing mood suceeds
As mourning inly some unraveld deeds
The slowly solem step the drooping head
Such woes are plain depicted in their tread
Now usless mizers midnight hags forlorn
In shattered rags their saving deeds have worn

(lines 1-20)

EP I 285
(Unpublished elsewhere)

... a little more from "The Wish"

  The one wherein thro summer I might sleep
  The other should my orchards produce keep
  Yet both shuld boast a bed as one might be
  Useful for those that came to visit me
  Of this there should be very little shown
  Tho friends & nearest kin Id never cease to own
  But as my self they both alike should fare
  & while it lasted might be welcome there
  My chamber window should oer look the east
  That in delicious views my eyes might feast

  There girt with crimson see the morning sun
  Thro distant trees his journey just begun
  Still mounting every moment stages higher
  & as his height increases so the fire
  At other times succeeds the vaporing mist
  Hiding each object quite from east to west
  While other mornings shine with pearly dews
  Then is the time to look for distant views

  The Tree the Wood the Cot & distant Spire
  I woud search after with a fond desire

from "The Wish"

    A strong brick wall should bound the outward fence
  Where by the suns allcheering influence
  Walltrees should flourish in a spreading row
  & Peach & Pear in ruddy lustre glow
  A five foot bed should follow from the wall
  To look compleat or save the trees withall
  On which small seeds for sallading Id sow
  While curl-leaf Parsley should for edges grow
  My Garden in four quarters Id divide
  To show good taste & not a gaudy pride

  In this the middle walk should be the best
  Being more to sight exposed than the rest
  At whose southend a harbor should be made
  So well belovd in summer for its shade:
  For this the rose woud do or jessamine
  With virginbower or the sweet woodbine

  Each one of these woud form exactly well
  A compleat harbor both for shade or smell
  Here woud I sit when leisure did agree
  To view the pride of summer scenery

Pet MS C2 p63-6
EP I 46-50
(Unpublished elsewhere)