Ballad by John Clare

"Here morning in the ploughman's songs is met     Ere yet one footstep shows in all the sky,     And twilight in the east, a doubt as yet,     S"

"How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp,     My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp,     Where the real effigy of midnight hags,     With tawny"

"The setting Sun withdraws his yellow light,     A gloomy staining shadows over all,     While the brown beetle, trumpeter of Night,     Proclai"

"Where the broad sheepwalk bare and brown     [Yields] scant grass pining after showers,     And winds go fanning up and down     The little str"

"I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air— I have a rendez"

"I Ay, it is fitting on this holiday, Commemorative of our soldier dead, When -- with sweet flowers of our New England May Hiding the lichened stones"