Pleasure's Past.
By John Clare
Spring's sweets they are not fled, though Summer's blossom Has met its blight of sadness, drooping low; Still flowers gone by find beds in memory's bosom, Life's nursling buds among the weeds of woe. Each pleasing token of Spring's early morning Warms with the pleasures which we once did know; Each little stem the leafy bank adorning, Reminds of joys from infancy that flow. Spring's early heralds on the winter smiling, That often on their errands meet their doom, Primrose and daisy, dreary hours beguiling, Smile o'er my pleasures past whene'er they come; And the speckt throstle never wakes his song, But Life's past Spring seems melting from his tongue.
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"Spring's sweets they are not fled, though Summer's blossom..."
Exploring the themes of classic, John Clare delivers a powerful performance in "Pleasure's Past."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...