JohnClare
Ineverwasstruckbeforethathour
Withlovesosuddenandsosweet.
Herfaceitbloomedlikeasweetflower
Andstolemyheartawaycomplete.
Myfaceturnedpaleasdeadlypale,
Mylegsrefusedtowalkaway,
Andwhenshelooked“WhatcouldIail？”
Mylifeandallseemedturnedtoclay.
Andthenmybloodrushedtomyface
Andtookmyeyesightquiteaway.
Thetreesandbushesroundtheplace
Seemedmidnightatnoonday.
Icouldnotseeasinglething,
Wordsfrommyeyesdidstart;
Theyspokeaschordsdofromthestring
Andbloodburntroundmyheart.
Artflowersthewinter'schoice?
Islove'sbedalwayssnow?
Sheseemedtohearmysilentvoice
Notlove'sappealstoknow.
Ineversawsosweetaface
AsthatIstoodbefore:
Myhearthasleftitsdwelling-place
Andcanreturnnomore.
