To Mary
By John Clare
Mary, I love to sing About the flowers of Spring, For they resemble thee. In the earliest of the year Thy beauties will appear, And youthful modesty. Here's the daisy's silver rim, With gold eye never dim, Spring's earliest flower so fair. Here the pilewort's golden rays Set the cow green in a blaze, Like the sunshine in thy hair. Here's forget-me-not so blue; Is there any flower so true? Can it speak my happy lot? When we courted in disguise This flower I used to prize, For it said "Forget-me-not." Speedwell! And when we meet In the meadow paths so sweet, Where the flowers I gave to thee All grew beneath the sun, May thy gentle heart be won, And I be blest with thee.
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"Mary, I love to sing..."
"To Mary" is a quintessential example of John Clare's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...