John Clare

POETRY: December by John Clare

December 28, 2017

Christmas is come and every hearth Makes room to give him welcome now, E’en want will dry its tears in mirth, And crown him with a holly bough; Though tramping ‘neath a winter sky. O’er snowy track paths and rimy stiles, The housewife sets her spinning by And bids him welcome with her smiles. Each house is swept the day before, And windows stuck with evergreens, The snow is besom’d from the door, And comfort crowns the cottage scenes. Gilt holly, with its thorny pricks, And yew and box, with berries small, These deck the unused candlesticks, And pictures hanging by the wall. Neighbors resume their annual cheer, Wishing with smiles and spirits high, Glad Christmas and a happy year, To every morning passer-by; Milkmaids, their [...]

POETRY: Lord, Hear My Prayer by John Clare

September 12, 2017

Hear my prayer, O Lord, and let my cry come unto thee.  Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble; incline thine ear unto me: in the day when I call answer me speedily.  For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as an hearth.  My heart is smitten, and withered like grass; so that I forget to eat my bread.  By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin.  I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am like an owl of the desert.  I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.  Mine enemies reproach me all the day; and they that are mad against me are sworn against me.  For I have eaten ashes like bread, and mingled my drink with weeping.  Because of thine indignation and thy [...]