Shadows
THE fairest summer hath its sudden showers;
The clearest sky is never without clouds;
And in the painted meadow's host of flowers
Some lurking weed a poisonous death enshrouds.
Sweet days, that upon golden sunshine spring,
A gloomy night in mourning waits to stain;
The honey-bees are girt with sharpest sting,
And sweetest joys oft breed severest pain.
While like to autumn's storms, sudden and brief,
Mirth's parted lips oft close in silent grief,
Amid this checkered life's disastrous state,
Still Hope lives green amid the desolate;
As Nature, in her happy livery, waves
O'er ancient ruins, palaces, and graves.
John Clare (1793-1864)
An English poet John Clare was born in Helpstone, Northamptonshire. The son of a poor laborer, he was forced to go to work at an early age. He enjoyed some fame and financial success with the publication of Poems, Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery in 1820. Clare's later works were less well received and he became impoverished finally confined to an insane asylum in 1837 where he spent the last 23 years of his life. Since a majority of his work was composed about village life and rustic scenery he became known as the Northamptonshire Peasant Poet.
Among his works the last poems of his freedom stand out as mature and detached Shadows is both individual and unique; the last three lines give an idea of the struggle that Clare would soon lose.
Sources:
John Clare - The Shepherd's Calendar:
www.photoaspects.com/chesil/clare/
Public domain text taken from The Poets’ Corner:
http://www.geocities.com/~bblair/jcshadows.htm
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