Farewell

John Clare

Farewell to the bushy clump close to the river
And the flags where the butter-bump hides in forever;
Farewell to the weedy nook, hemmed in by waters;
Farewell to the miller’s brook and his three bonny daughters;
Farewell to them all while in prison I lie—
In the prison a thrall sees naught but the sky.

Shut out are the green fields and birds in the bushes;
In the prison yard nothing builds, blackbirds or thrushes.
Farewell to the old mill and dash of waters,
To the miller and, dearer still, to his three bonny daughters.

In the nook, the larger burdock grows near the green willow;
In the flood, round the moor-cock dashes under the billow;
To the old mill farewell, to the lock, pens, and waters,
To the miller himsel’, and his three bonny daughters.

Next 10 Poems

• John Clare : Hen's Nest
• John Clare : I Am
• John Clare : I Hid My Love
• John Clare : In Hilly-wood
• John Clare : Insects
• John Clare : Love Lives Beyond The Tomb
• John Clare : May
• John Clare : November
• John Clare : Remembrances
• John Clare : Song's Eternity

Previous 10 Poems

• John Clare : Evening Primrose
• John Clare : Evening
• John Clare : Early Nightingale
• John Clare : Clock-o'-clay
• John Clare : Christmass
• John Clare : Badger
• John Clare : Autumn Birds
• John Clare : Autumn
• G. K. Chesterton : Wine And Water
• G. K. Chesterton : Who Goes Home?