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To a Fallen Elm

Old Elm that murmured in our chimney

The sweetest anthem autumn ever

And into mellow whispering calms would

When showers fell on thy many coloured

And when dark tempests mimic thunder

While darkness came as it would strangle

With the black tempest of a winter

That rocked thee like a cradle to thy

How did I love to hear the winds

Thy strength without while all within was

It seasoned comfort to our hearts

We felt thy kind protection like a

And pitched our chairs up closer to the

Enjoying comforts that was was never

Old favourite tree thoust seen times changes

But change till now did never come to

For time beheld thee as his sacred

And nature claimed thee her domestic

Storms came and shook thee with aliving

Yet steadfast to thy home thy roots hath

Summers of thirst parched round thy homely

Till earth grew iron - still thy leaves was

The children sought thee in thy summer

And made their play house rings of sticks and

The mavis sang and felt himself

While in they leaves his early nest was

And I did feel his happiness mine

Nought heeding that our friendship was

Friend not inanimate- tho stocks and

There are and many cloathed in flesh and

Thou ownd a language by which hearts are

Deeper than by the attribute of

Thine spoke a feeling known in every

Language of pity and the force of

What cant assumes what hypocrites may

Speaks home to truth and shows it what they areI see a picture that thy fate

And learn a lesson from thy

Self interest saw thee stand in freedoms

So thy old shadow must a tyrant

Thoust heard the knave abusing those in

Bawl freedom loud and then oppress the

Thoust sheltered hypocrites in many an

That when in power would never shelter

Thoust heard the knave supply his canting

With wrongs illusions when he wanted

That bawled for shelter when he lived in

And when clouds vanished made thy shade

With axe at root he felled thee to the

And barked of freedom - O I hate that

It grows the cant terms of enslaving

To wrong another by the name of

It grows a licence with oer bearing

To cheat plain honesty by force of

Thus came enclosure- ruin was her

But freedoms clapping hands enjoyed the

Tho comforts cottage soon was thrust

And workhouse prisons raised upon the

Een natures dwelling far away from

The common heath became the spoilers

The rabbit had not where to make his

And labours only cow was drove

No matter- wrong was right and right was

And freedoms brawl was sanction to the

Such was thy ruin music making

The rights of freedom was to injure

As thou wert served so would they

In freedoms name the little so would they over

And these are knaves that brawl for better

And cant of tyranny in stronger

Who glut their vile unsatiated

And freedoms birthright from the weak devours

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John Clare

John Clare (13 July 1793 – 20 May 1864) was an English poet. The son of a farm labourer, he became known for his celebrations of the English cou…

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