John Clare

(13 July 1793 – 20 May 1864 / Northamptonshire / England)

John Clare Poems

1. The Universal Epitaph 10/20/2015
2. In Summer Showers A Skreeking Noise Is Heard 5/21/2015
3. June 3/26/2015
4. The Badger 1/17/2015
5. Mouse's Nest 12/17/2014
6. The Maid Of Ocram, Or, Lord Gregory 4/13/2010
7. The Shepherds Calendar - July (2nd Version) 4/13/2010
8. Farm Breakfast 4/13/2010
9. The Maid Of Jerusalem 4/13/2010
10. Spear Thistle 4/13/2010
11. Merry Maid 4/13/2010
12. The Lout 4/13/2010
13. The Cottager 4/13/2010
14. Peggy's The Lady Of The Hall 4/13/2010
15. Ploughman Singing 4/13/2010
16. Nobody Cometh To Woo 4/13/2010
17. Letter In Verse 4/13/2010
18. The Beautiful Stranger 4/13/2010
19. Nature's Hymn To The Deity 4/13/2010
20. The Sailor-Boy 4/13/2010
21. The Lass With The Delicate Air 4/13/2010
22. The Cellar Door 4/13/2010
23. Scandal 4/13/2010
24. The Old Cottagers 4/13/2010
25. Market Day 4/13/2010
26. The Shepherds Calendar - July 4/13/2010
27. Sunday Dip 4/13/2010
28. Patty Of The Vale 4/13/2010
29. Song #3 4/13/2010
30. The Shepherd's Calendar - October 4/13/2010
31. The Shepherds Calendar - November 4/13/2010
32. Graves Of Infants 4/13/2010
33. Stonepit 4/13/2010
34. The Shepherd's Calendar - August 4/13/2010
35. Song #1 4/13/2010
36. Pleasures Of Fancy 4/13/2010
37. The Shepherd's Calendar - September 4/13/2010
38. Grasshoppers 4/13/2010
39. Love 4/13/2010
40. The Vanities Of Life 4/13/2010
Best Poem of John Clare

I Am

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;
And e'en the dearest--that I loved the best--
Are strange--nay, rather stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man has never ...

Read the full of I Am

The Shepherd's Tree

Huge elm, with rifted trunk all notched and scarred,
Like to a warrior's destiny! I love
To stretch me often on thy shadowed sward,
And hear the laugh of summer leaves above;
Or on thy buttressed roots to sit, and lean
In careless attitude, and there reflect
On times and deeds and darings that have been -
Old castaways, now swallowed in neglect, -
While thou art towering in thy strength of heart,

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