P O E M S

 

DESCRIPTIVE OF

 

RURAL LIFE AND SCENERY.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

………………………………………………….…………………………………….

 

 

 

 

 

 

_______________

T. Miller, Printer, Noble Street,

Cheapside, London.

.

……………………………………………..…………………………………………

 

 

P O E M S

 

DESCRIPTIVE OF

 

RURAL LIFE AND SCENERY.

 

 

BY JOHN CLARE,

 

A NORTHAMPTONSHIRE PEASANT.

 

 

 

“The Summer’s Flower is to the Summer sweet,

“Though to itself it only live and die.­”

Shakspeare.

 

 

SECOND EDITION.

 

 

 

LONDON:

 

PRINTED FOR TAYLOR AND HESSEY, FLEET STREET;

AND E. DRURY, STAMFORD.

____

 

1820.

 

 

………………..……..…………………………………………………………………

 

 

 

 

 

………………..……..…………………………………………………………………

 

 

        CONTENTS.

           ________

 

 

                POEMS.

Page

INTRODUCTION……………………………..……………    i

 

HELPSTONE…………………………………………….….   1

Address to a Lark, singing in Winter………………………   12

The Fate of Amy.—A Tale………………………………...  16

Evening…………………………………………………….   30

What is Life?…………………………………………….....   35

On a lost Greyhound lying on the Snow………………... …  37

A Reflection in Autumn………………………………..…..   41

The Robin…………………………………………………..   42

Epigram…………………………………………………….    44

Address to Plenty, in Winter……………………………….   45

The Fountain………………………………………..……...    59

To an insignificant Flower, obscurely blooming in a lonely

Wild…………………………………………..…..   62

Elegy on the Ruins of Pickworth, Rutlandshire. Hastily

composed, and written with a Pencil on the Spot...  65

Noon……………………………………………………..….   69

The Village Funeral…………………………………….……   73

Early Rising………………………………………………….  79

                                To a Rose-bud in humble Life………………….……………  82

vi………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

Page

The Universal Epitaph……………………………………….  85

Familiar Epistle, to a Friend…………………………………  86

The Harvest Morning………………………………………..  92

On Beauty…………………………………………………… 97

On an Infant’s Grave………………………………………...  98

On Cruelty…………………………………………………..   99

On the Death of a beautiful young Lady…………………… 102

Falling Leaves………………………………………………  104

The Contrast of Beauty and Virtue………………………… 106

To an April Daisy……………..…………………………… 108

To Hope……………………………………………………. 110

An Effusion to Poesy, on receiving a Damp from a genteel

Opinionist in Poetry, of some sway, as I am told, in

the literary World………………………………..  111

The Poet’s Wish………………………………………….… 113

Summer Evening……………………………………….…...  118

Summer Morning……………………………………….…..  127

Dawnings of Genius…………………………………….….. 135

To a cold Beauty, insensible of Love…………………….… 138

Patty………………………………………………………... 140

On Youth……………………………………………...……  142

The Adieu…………………………………………………..  143

Crazy Nell.—A true Story…………………………………. 145

Dolly’s Mistake; or, the Ways of the Wake………….……...153

My Mary…………………………………………………… 159

 

_________

                               

   SONGS AND BALLADS.

 

Upon the Plain.—A Ballad…………………………………. 167

vi                              Friend Lubin…………………………………………………171

vii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

Page

Patty of the Vale……………………………………………. 172

Sad was the Day……………………………………………. 174

To-day the Fox must Die.—A Hunting Song………………..176

My last Shilling………………………………………………179

Her I Love……………………………………………………182

My Love, thou art a Nosegay sweet…………………………184

My Love’s like a Lily………………………………………..185

True Love…………………………………………………… 187

The First of May.—A Ballad……………………………….. 188

 

__________

 

SONNETS.

 

The Setting Sun……………………………………………... 193

The Primrose…………………………………………………194

Christian Faith………………………………………………. 195

The Moon…………………………………………………….196

The Gipsy’s Evening Blaze…………………………………..197

A Scene……………………………………………………….198

To the Glow-worm………………………………………….. 199

The Ant………………………………………………………200

To Hope……………………………………………………... 201

A Winter Scene……………………………………………… 202

Evening……………………………………………………… 203

To the Winds…………………………………………………204

Native Scenes………………………………………………...205

To a favourite Tree……………………………………..…..   206

Approach of Spring……………………………………..…..  207

Summer…………………………………………………....     208

vii                             The River Gwash…………………………………………...  209

viii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

Page

To Religion…………………………………………………. 210

Anxiety……………………………………………………... 211

Expectation……………………………………………….… 212

To my Oaten Reed………………………………………….. 213

 

                                Glossary………………………………………………….…. 215

viii

………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

 

 

    INTRODUCTION.

________

 

THE following Poems will probably attract some

notice by their intrinsic merit; but they are also

entitled to attention from the circumstances under

which they were written.  They are the genuine

productions of a young Peasant, a day-labourer in

husbandry, who has had no advantages of education

beyond others of his class; and though Poets in

this country have seldom been fortunate men,

yet he is, perhaps, the least favoured by circum­-

stances, and the most destitute of friends, of any                        10

that ever existed.

 

   JOHN CLARE, the author of this Volume, was

born at Helpstone, near Peterborough, Northamp-

­tonshire, on the 13th of July, 1793.  He is the only

                        son of Parker and Ann Clare, who are also natives

ii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

of the same village, where they have always resided

in extreme poverty; nor are they aware that any of

their ancestors have been in better circumstances.

Parker Clare is a farmer’s labourer, and latterly

he was employed in threshing; but violent colds                          20

brought on the rheumatism to such a degree that he

was at length unable to work, or even to move

without assistance.  By the kind liberality of Lord

Milton he was then sent to the Sea-bathing In-

­firmary at Scarborough, where he found great relief;

but returning home part of the way on foot, from a

desire to save expenses, his exertions and exposure

to the weather brought on the pain again, and re-

­duced him to a more deplorable state than ever.

He is now a helpless cripple, and a pauper, receiv-                    30

­ing an allowance of five shillings a week from the

parish.

 

   JOHN CLARE has always lived with his parents

at Helpstone, except for those short periods when

the distance to which he was obliged to go for work

prevented his return every evening.  At his own

home, therefore, he saw Poverty in all its most

affecting shapes, and when he speaks of it, as in

the Address to Plenty, p.48,

 

   “Oh, sad sons of Poverty!                                                               40

ii                                               Victims doom’d to misery;

iii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

Who can paint what pain prevails

O’er that heart which want assails?

Modest Shame the pain conceals:

No one knows, but he who feels”——

 

And again:

 

“Toiling in the naked fields,

Where no bush a shelter yields,

Needy Labour dithering stands,

Beats and blows his numbing hands;                                              50

And upon the crumping snows

Stamps, in vain, to warm his toes”——

 

he utters “no idly-feign’d poetic pains:” it is a

picture of what he has constantly witnessed and

felt.  One of our poets has gained great credit by

his exterior delineations of what the poor man suf-

­fers; but in the reality of wretchedness, when “the

iron enters into the soul,” there is a tone which can-

­not be imitated.  CLARE has here an unhappy ad-

­vantage over other poets.  The most miserable of                       60

them were not always wretched.  Penury and

disease were not constantly at their heels, nor was

pauperism their only prospect.  But he has no

other, for the lot which has befallen his father, may,

with too much reason, be looked forward to as the

portion of his own old age.  In the “annals of the

poor” want occupies a part of every page, except

iii                      the last, where the scene changes to the workhouse;

iv………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

but then the burthen which is taken from the body

is laid upon the spirit: at least it would be so with                        70

CLARE; for though the contemplation of parochial

relief may administer to some minds a thankless,

hopeless sort of consolation, under the pressure of

extreme distress, yet to the writer of the following

lines it must be the highest aggravation of afflic-

­tion:­—

 

“Oh, may I die, before I’m doom’d to seek

   That last resource of hope, but ill supplied;

To claim the humble pittance once a week,

   Which justice forces from disdainful pride!” (p.78.)                   80

 

   While such was the destitute condition of his

parents, it may seem extraordinary that CLARE

should have found the means to acquire any learn-­

ing whatever; but by extra work as a ploughboy,

and by helping his father morning and evening at

threshing, he earned the money which paid for his

education.  From the labour of eight weeks he

generally acquired as many pence as would pay for

a month’s schooling; and thus in the course of

three years he received, at different times, so much                    90

instruction that he could read very well in the

Bible.  He considers himself to have derived much

benefit from the judicious encouragement of his

schoolmaster, Mr. Seaton, of Glinton, an adjoining

iv                      parish, from whom he sometimes obtained three-

v………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

pence a week in rewards, and who once gave him

sixpence for repeating, from memory, the third

chapter of Job.  With these little sums he bought

a few books.

 

   When he had learned to read tolerably well, he                       100

borrowed from one of his companions that universal

favourite, Robinson Crusoe, and in the perusal of

this he greatly increased his stock of knowledge

and his desire for reading.  He was thirteen years

of age when another boy shewed him Thomson’s

Seasons.  They were out in the fields together, and

during the day CLARE had a good opportunity of

looking at the book.  It called forth all the passion

of his soul for poetry.  He was determined to pos­-

sess the work himself; and as soon as he had saved                   110

a shilling to buy it with, he set off for Stamford at

so early an hour, that none of the shops were open

when he got there.  It was a fine Spring morning;

and after he had made his purchase, he was re-

­turning through the beautiful scenery of Burghley

Park, when he composed his first piece of poetry,

which he called “The Morning Walk.”  This was

soon followed by the “Evening Walk,” and some

other little pieces.

 

v                          But the first expression of his fondness for Poetry                   120

vi………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

was before he had learnt to read.  He was tired

one day with looking at the pictures in a volume of

poems, which he thinks were Pomfret’s, when his

father read him one piece in the book to amuse him.

The delight he felt, at hearing this read, still warms

him when he thinks of the circumstance; but though

he distinctly recollects the vivid pleasure which

thrilled through him then, he has lost all trace

of the incidents as well as of the language, nor can

he find any poem of Pomfret’s at all answering the                     130

faint conception he retains of it.  It is possible

that his chief gratification was in the harmony of the

numbers, and that he had thoughts of his own float-

­ing onward with the verse very different from those

which the same words would now suggest.  The

various melody of the earliest of his own composi­-

tions is some argument in favour of this opinion.

 

   His love of Poetry, however, would soon have

spent itself in compositions as little to be remem­-

bered as that which has just been mentioned, had it                    140

not been for the kindness of Mr. John Turnill, late

of Helpstone, now in the Excise, who was indeed

a benefactor to him.  From his instruction CLARE,

though he knew a little of the rudiments before,

learnt Writing and Arithmetic; and to this friend

vi                      he must, therefore, consider himself indebted for

vii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

whatever good may accrue to him from the exercise

of those powers of mind with which he is naturally

endowed.  For it is very probable, that, without

the means of recording his productions on paper,                       150

CLARE would not only have lost the advantage he

may derive from the publication of his works, but

that also in himself he would not have been the

Poet he is; that, without writing down his thoughts,

he could not have evolved them from his mind;

and that his vocabulary would have been too scanty

to express even what his imagination had strength

enough to conceive.  Besides, if he did succeed in

partial instances, the aggregate amount of them

could not have been collected and estimated.  A                        160

few detached songs or short passages might be,

perhaps, treasured in the memory of his companions

for a short period, but they would soon perish,

leaving his name and fame without a record.

 

   In the “Dawnings of Genius,” CLARE describes

the condition of a man, whose education has been

too contracted to allow him to utter the thoughts

of which he is conscious:—

 

“Thus pausing wild on all he saunters by,

He feels enraptur’d though he knows not why;                             170

And hums and mutters o’er his joys in vain,

vii                                             And dwells on something which he can’t explain.

viii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

The bursts of thought, with which his soul’s perplex’d,

Are bred one moment, and are gone the next;

Yet still the heart will kindling sparks retain,

And thoughts will rise, and Fancy strive again.”

 

There is, perhaps, no feeling so distressing to the

individual, as that of Genius thus struggling in vain

for sounds to convey an idea of its almost intoler-

­able sensations,                                                                         180

 

“Till by successless sallies wearied quite,

The Memory fails, and Fancy takes her flight;

The wick confin’d within the socket dies,

Borne down and smother’d in a thousand sighs.”

 

that this would have been CLARE’s fate, unless

he had been taught to write, cannot be doubted;

and a perusal of his Poems will convince any one,

that something of this kind he still feels, from his

inability to find those words which can fully declare

his meaning.  From the want of a due supply of                          190

these, and from his ignorance of grammar, he seems

to labour under great disadvantages.  On the other

hand, his want forces him to an extraordinary exertion

of his native powers, in order to supply the deficiency.

He employs the language under his command with

great effect, in those unusual and unprecedented

combinations of words which must be made, even

viii                     by the learned, when they attempt to describe per­-

ix………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

fectly something which they have never seen or

heard expressed before.  And in this respect                              200

CLARE’s deficiencies are the cause of many beau-

­ties,—for though he must, of course, innovate, that

he may succeed in his purpose, yet he does it ac­-

cording to that rational mode of procedure, by

which all languages have been formed and per-

­fected. Thus he frequently makes verbs of sub-

­stantives, as in the lines,

 

“Dark and darker glooms the sky”——

 

“To pint it just at my desire”——

 

Or verbs of adjectives, as in the following,                                 210

 

“Spring’s pencil pinks thee in thy flushy stain.”

 

But in this he has done no more than the man who

first employed crimson as a verb: and as we had no

word that would in such brief compass supply so

clearly the sense of this, he was justified no doubt

in taking it.  Some future writers may, perhaps,

feel thankful for the precedent.  But there is no

innovation in such cases as these.  Inseparably

connected with the use of speech is the privilege to

abbreviate; and those new ideas, which in one age                     220

are obliged to be communicated paraphrastically,

have generally in the next some definite term as-

ix                      signed them: so legitimate, however, is the process

x………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

of this, by reason of certain laws of analogy which

are inherent in the mind of man, and universally

attended to in the formation of new words, that no

confusion can arise; for the word thus introduced

into a language always contains its meaning in its

derivation and composition, except it be such mere

cant as is not meant to live beyond the day; and                         230

further, the correspondent word to it may always

be found in other more perfect languages, if the

people who spoke that language were alike conver­-

sant with the idea, and equally under the tempta­-

tion of employing some word to signify it.

 

   But a very great number of those words which

are generally called new, are, in fact, some of the

oldest in our language: many of them are extant in

the works of our earliest authors; and a still greater

number float on the popular voice, preserved only                     240

by tradition, till the same things to which they were

originally applied again attract notice, and some

writer, in want of the word, either ignorantly or

wisely, but in either case happily, restores it to its

proper place.  Many of the provincial expressions,

to which CLARE has been forced to have recourse,

are of this description, forming part of a large num-­

ber which may be called the unwritten language of

x                       England. They were once, perhaps, as current

xi………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

throughout the land, and are still many of them as                       250

well-sounding and significant, as any that are sanc-

­tioned by the press.  In the midland counties they

are readily understood without a glossary; but, for

the use of those who are unaccustomed to them, all

such as are not to be found in Johnson’s Dictionary

will be printed at the end, with explanations.

 

   Another peculiarity in CLARE’s writing, which

may be the occasion of some misunderstanding in

those who are critically nice in the construction of

a sentence, is the indifference with which he regards                   260

words as governing each other; but this defect,

which arises from his evident ignorance of grammar,

is never so great as to give any real embarrassment

to the reader*.  An example occurs at p. 41:—

 

“Just so ’twill fare with me in Autumn’s Life,”

 

instead of “the Autumn of Life;” but who can

doubt the sense? And it may be worth while to

mention here another line, which for the same rea-

­son may be objected to by some persons:­—

 

“But still Hope’s smiles unpoint the thorns of Care”——            270

­

* The irregularity here mentioned was, from the same cause,

practised by Shakspeare.—See Ritson’s note, Shaks. vol. xi. p. 106.

xi                              Edit. 21 vols. 1813.

xii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

as if he had intended to say “Hope smiling;” yet

as the passage now stands it has also great pro-

­priety, and the Poet’s conception of the effect of

those smiles may have been, that they could blunt

the thorns of care.  But CLARE, as well as many

other poets, does not regard language in the same

way that a logician does.  He considers it collec-

­tively rather than in detail, and paints up to his mind’s

original by mingling words, as a painter mixes his

colours.  And without this method, it would be im-                     280

­possible to convey to the understanding of the

reader an adequate notion of some things, and

especially of the effects of nature, seen under cer-

­tain influences of time, circumstance, and colour.

In Prose these things are never attempted, unless

with great circumlocution; but Poetry is always

straining after them concisely, as they increase her

power of giving pleasure; and much allowance ought

to be made if her efforts in this way are not always

successful.  Instances of the free grouping of words                   290

occur in the Sonnet to the Glow-worm:—

­

“Tasteful Illumination of the night!

Bright, scatter’d, twinkling star of spangled earth,” &c.

 

And in the following lines:—

 

“Aside the green hill’s steepy brow,

Where shades the oak its darksome bough.”

xii                                                                                                                             (p. 81.)

xiii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

“So have I mark’d the dying embers light,——

With glimmering glow oft redden up again,

And sparks crack’d brightening into life, in vain.”                        300

(p. 137.)

 

“Brisk winds the lighten’d branches shake,

   By pattering, plashing drops confess’d;

And, where oaks dripping shade the lake,

   Print crimpling dimples on its breast.”

(p. 134.)

 

   Examples of the use of Colour may be seen in

the Sonnets—To the Primrose, p. 176, The Gipsy’s

Evening Blaze, p. 179, A Scene, p. 180, and in the

following verse:—                                                                     310

 

“First sunbeam, calling night away,                                                      

   To see how sweet thy summons seems,

Split by the willow’s wavy grey,

   And sweetly dancing on the streams.”

(p.130.)

 

The whole of the Sonnet to the river Gwash is an

instance of it, down to the line

 

“And moss and ivy speckling on my eye.”

 

   A dry critic would call the former passages re-

­dundant in epithets; and the word speckling would                    320

excite, perhaps, his spleen in the latter: but ask

the question, and you will probably find that this

critic himself has no eye for colour,—that the light,

xiii                     and shade, and mezzotint of a landscape, have no

xiv………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

charms for him,—that “his eye indeed is open,

but its sense is shut;” and then, what dependance

can be placed upon his judgment in these matters?

 

   CLARE, it is evident, is susceptible of extreme

pleasure from the varied hues, forms, and combin-

­ations in nature, and what he most enjoys, he en-                       330

­deavours to pourtray for the gratification of others.

He is most thoroughly the Poet as well as the Child

of Nature; and, according to his opportunities, no

poet has more completely devoted himself to her

service, studied her more closely, or exhibited so

many sketches of her under new and interesting

appearances.  There is some merit in all this, for

Wordsworth asserts, “that, excepting a passage or

two in the Windsor Forest of Pope, and some de-

­lightful pictures in the Poems of Lady Winchelsea,                      340

the Poetry of the period intervening between the

publication of the Paradise Lost, and the Seasons

[60 years], does not contain a single new image

of external nature.”  But CLARE has no idea

of excelling others in doing this. He loves the

fields, the flowers, “the common air, the sun, the

skies;” and, therefore, he writes about them.  He

is happier in the presence of Nature than else-

­where.  He looks as anxiously on her face as

xiv                     if she were a living friend, whom he might lose;                           350

xv………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

and hence he has learnt to notice every change in

her countenance, and to delineate all the delicate

varieties of her character.  Most of his poems were

composed under the immediate impression of this

feeling, in the fields, or on the road-sides.  He

could not trust his memory, and therefore he

wrote them down with a pencil on the spot, his

hat serving him for a desk; and if it happened

that he had no opportunity soon after of transcrib-

­ing these imperfect memorials, he could seldom                         360

decypher them, or recover his first thoughts.

From this cause several of his poems are quite

lost, and others exist only in fragments.  Of those

which he had committed to writing, especially his

earlier pieces, many were destroyed from another

circumstance, which shews how little he expected

to please others with them : from a hole in the wall

of his room, where he stuffed his manuscripts, a

piece of paper was often taken to hold the kettle

with, or light the fire.                                                                 370

 

   It is now thirteen years since CLARE composed

his first poem: in all that time he has gone on

secretly cultivating, his taste and talent for poetry,

without one word of encouragement, or the most

distant prospect of reward.  That passion must

xv                      have been originally very strong and pure, which

xvi………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

could sustain itself, for so many years, through

want, and toil, and hopeless misery.  His labour

in the fields through all seasons, it might be thought,

would have disgusted him with those objects which                    380

he so much admired at first; and his taste might

have altered with his age: but the foundation of

his regard was too deeply laid in truth to be shaken.

On the contrary, he found delight in scenes which

no other poet has thought of celebrating.  “The

swampy falls of pasture ground, and rushy spread-

­ing greens,” “plashy streams,” and “weed-beds

wild and rank,” give him as much real transport

as common minds feel at what are called the most

romantic prospects.  And if there were any question                  390

as to the intensity or sincerity of his feeling for

Poetry and Nature, the commendation of these

simple, unthought of, and generally despised objects

would decide it.

 

   Of the poems which form the present collection

some few were among CLARE’s earliest efforts.

The Fate of Amy was begun when he was fourteen;

Helpstone, The Gipsy’s Evening Blaze, Reflection

in Autumn, The Robin, Noon, The Universal

Epitaph, and some others, were written before he                      400

was seventeen.  The rest bear various dates, but

xvi                     the greater number are of recent origin.  The

xvii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

Village Funeral was written in 1815; The Address

to Plenty, in December 1817; The Elegy on the

Ruins of Pickworth, in 1818.  To describe the oc-

­cupations of CLARE, we must not say that Labour

and the Muse went hand in hand: they rather kept

alternate watch, and when Labour was exhausted

with fatigue, she “cheer’d his needy toilings with

a song.”  In a note on this poem, CLARE says,                           410

“The Elegy on the Ruins of Pickworth was

written one Sunday morning, after I had been help-

­ing to dig the hole for a lime-kiln, where the many

fragments of mortality and perished ruins inspired

me with thoughts of other times, and warmed me

into song.”

 

   In the last two years he has written, What is

Life? The Fountain, My Mary, To a Rosebud,

Effusion to Poesy, The Summer Evening, Sum-

­mer Morning, First of May, The Dawnings of                            420

Genius, The Contrast, Dolly’s Mistake, Harvest

Morning, The Poet’s Wish, Crazy Nell, and

several other pieces, with almost all the Sonnets.

One of the last productions of CLARE’s fancy is the

following Song, which, as it came too late to be in-

­serted in its proper place in this volume, may as

well appear here, where it fitly closes the chronicle

xvii                    of his Poems.

xviii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

          THE MEETING.

 

HERE we meet, too soon to part,                                   430

Here to leave will raise a smart,

Here I’ll press thee to my heart,

Where none have place above thee:

Here I vow to love thee well,

And could words unseal the spell,

Had but language strength to tell,

I’d say how much I love thee.

 

Here, the rose that decks thy door,

Here, the thorn that spreads thy bow’r,

Here, the willow on the moor,                                       440

The birds at rest above thee,

Had they light of life to see,

Sense of soul like thee and me,

Soon might each a witness be

xviii                                             How doatingly I love thee.

xix………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

By the night-sky’s purple ether,

And by even’s sweetest weather,

That oft has blest us both together,—

The moon that shines above thee,

And shews thy beauteous cheek so blooming,               450

And by pale age’s winter coming,

The charms, and casualties of woman,

I will for ever love thee.

 

   This song is written nearly in the metre of one by

Burns, “O were I on Parnassus’ Hill,” and the

subject is the same, but in the execution they are

quite different.  CLARE has a great delight in try-

­ing to run races with other men, and unluckily this

cannot always be attempted without subjecting him

to the charge of imitating; but he will be found free                     460

from this imputation in all the best parts of his

poetry, and in the present instance it may be worth

while comparing him with his prototype, to see how

little he stands in need of such assistance.  The

propensity to emulate another is a youthful emotion,

and in his friendless state it afforded him an obvi-

­ous, and, perhaps, the only mode of endeavouring

to ascertain what kind and degree of ability he pos-

xix                     sessed as a Poet.

xx………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

   This song, “The Meeting,” was written at                                470

Helpstone, where CLARE is again residing with his

parents, working for any one who will employ him,

but without any regular occupation.  He had an

engagement during the greater part of the year with

Mr. Wilders, of Bridge-Casterton, two miles north

of Stamford; where the river Gwash, which crosses

the road, gave him a subject for one of his Sonnets.

(p. 191.)  His wages were nine shillings a week,

and his food; out of which he had to pay one

shilling and sixpence a week for a bed, it being im-                    480

­possible that he could return every night to Help-

­stone, a distance of nine miles: but at the beginning

of November, his employer proposed to allow him

only seven shillings a week; on which, he quitted

his service and returned home.

 

   It was an accident which led to the publication

of these Poems.  In December 1818, Mr. Edward

Drury, Bookseller, of Stamford, met by chance

with the Sonnet to the Setting Sun, written on a

piece of paper in which a letter had been wrapped                     490

up, and signed J.C.  Having ascertained the name

and residence of the writer, he went to Helpstone,

where he saw some other poems with which he was

much pleased.  At his request, CLARE made a

xx                     collection of the pieces he had written, and added

xxi………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

some others to them.  They were then sent to

London, for the opinion of the publishers, and they

selected those which form the present volume.

They have been printed with the usual corrections

only of orthography and grammar, in such instances                   500

as allowed of its being done without changing the

words: the proofs were then revised by CLARE, and

a few alterations were made at his desire.  The

original MSS. may be seen at Messrs. Taylor and

Hessey’s.

 

   The Author and his Poems are now before the

public; and its decision will speedily fix the fate of

the one, and, ultimately, that of the other: but

whatever be the result to either, this will at least

be granted, that no Poet of our country has shewn                     510

greater ability, under circumstances so hostile to its

developement.  And all this is found here without

any of those distressing and revolting alloys, which

too often debase the native worth of genius, and

make him who was gifted with powers to command

admiration, live to be the object of contempt or

pity.  The lower the condition of its possessor, the

more unfavourable, generally, has been the effect of

genius on his life.  That this has not been the case

with CLARE may, perhaps, be imputed to the abso-                   520

xxi                     lute depression of his fortune.  It is certain that he

xxii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

has not had the opportunity hitherto of being injured

by prosperity; and that he may escape in future, it

is hoped that those persons who intend to shew

him kindness, will not do it suddenly or partially,

but so as it will yield him permanent benefit.  Yet

when we hear the consciousness of possessing talent,

and the natural irritability of the poetic temperament,

pleaded in extenuation of the follies and vices

of men in high life, let it be accounted no mean                           530

praise to such a man as CLARE, that, with all the

excitements of their sensibility in his station, he has

preserved a fair character, amid dangers which pre-

­sumption did not create, and difficulties which dis-

cretion could not avoid.  In the real troubles of

life, when they are not brought on by the miscon-

­duct of the individual, a strong mind acquires the

power of righting itself after each attack, and this

philosophy, not to call it by a better name, CLARE

possesses.  If the expectations of “better life,”                            540

which he cannot help indulging, should all be dis-

­appointed, by the coldness with which this volume

may be received, he can

 

“——put up with distress, and be content.”

(p. 4)

 

In one of his letters he says, “If my hopes don’t

xxii                    succeed, the hazard is not of much consequence:

xxiii………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….

if I fall, I am advanced at no great distance

from my low condition: if I sink for want of

friends, my old friend Necessity is ready to help                         550

me, as before.  It was never my fortune as yet to

meet advancement from friendship: my fate has

ever been hard labour among the most vulgar and

lowest conditions of men; and very small is the

pittance hard labour allows me, though I always

toiled even beyond my strength to obtain it.”—To

see a man of talent struggling under great adversity

with such a spirit, must surely excite in every gene-

­rous heart the wish to befriend him.  But if it be

otherwise, and he should be doomed to remediless                    560

misery,

 

“Why let the stricken deer go weep,

   The hart ungalled play;

For some must watch, while some must sleep,—

xxiii                                   Thus runs the world away.”

  ………………………………………………………………………….……………………………….