Summer Pleasures They Are Gone

‘Summer pleasures they are gone like to visions every one
And the cloudy days of autumn and of winter cometh on
I tried to call them back but unbidden they are gone
Far away from heart and eye and for ever far away.’
From Remembrances by John Clare (1793-1864)

7 comments on “Summer Pleasures They Are Gone

  1. Waltraud Boxall says:

    The silver mist more slowly swims
    And each green-bosomed valley dims,
    And over the neighbouring meadow lies
    Like half-seen visions by dim eyes.
    Green trees look grey, bright waters black,
    The lated crow has lost her track
    And flies by guess her journey home:
    She flops along and cannot see
    Her peaceful nest on oddling tree.
    The lark drops down and cannot meet
    The taller black-grown clumps of wheat.
    The mists that rise from heat of day
    Fade field and meadow all away.

    ‘The Silver Mist’
    (also by John Clare)

  2. John O'Neill says:

    I like this image Robert. A hint of colour left in the season. The blog continues to be interesting as ever

  3. edgarrovdyr says:

    As far as I know, John Clare was an English poet and wrote about England. Are his poems suitable for Irish landscapes? Or they do not depend on where?
    Sorry for my bad English.

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