John Clare > Quotes

“I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed”
― John Clare, "I Am": The Selected Poetry of John Clare

“I Am!

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
― John Clare, "I Am": The Selected Poetry of John Clare

“I found the poems in the fields,
And only wrote them down.”
― John Clare, The Later Poems, 1837-1864

“O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.”
― John Clare, "I Am": The Selected Poetry of John Clare

“I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;
My friends forsake me like a memory lost:
I am the self-consumer of my woes—
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes
And yet I am, and live—like vapours tossed

Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life or joys,
But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;
Even the dearest that I loved the best
Are strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.”
― John Clare, "I Am": The Selected Poetry of John Clare

“I sleep with thee, and wake with thee,
And yet thou are not there;
I fill my arms with thoughts of thee,
And press the common air.”
― John Clare, The Later Poems, 1837-1864

“grammar in learning is like tyranny in government - confound the bitch I'll never be her slave.”
― John Clare

“Language has not the power to speak what love indites
The soul lies buried in the Ink that writes”
― John Clare, The Later Poems, 1837-1864

“Solitude

There is a charm in Solitude that cheers
A feeling that the world knows nothing of
A green delight the wounded mind endears
After the hustling world is broken off
Whose whole delight was crime at good to scoff
Green solitude his prison pleasure yields
The bitch fox heeds him not -- birds seem to laugh
He lives the Crusoe of his lonely fields
Which dark green oaks his noontide leisure shields”
― John Clare, John Clare: Selected Poetry and Prose

“I long for scenes where man hath never trod
A place where woman never smiled or wept
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie
The grass below—above the vaulted sky.”
― John Clare, The Later Poems, 1837-1864

“Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude
And fled to the silence of sweet solitude.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“I hid my love when young till I
Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;
I hid my life to my despite
Till I could not bear to look at light:
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where'er I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love good-bye.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“I just had a bruh moment”
― John Clare, John Clare - By Himself

“Invitation to Eternity

Say, wilt thou go with me, sweet maid,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through the valley-depths of shade,
Of bright and dark obscurity;
Where the path has lost its way,
Where the sun forgets the day,
Where there's nor light nor life to see,
Sweet maiden, wilt thou go with me?

Where stones will turn to flooding streams,
Where plains will rise like ocean's waves,
Where life will fade like visioned dreams
And darkness darken into caves,
Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
Through this sad non-identity
Where parents live and are forgot,
And sisters live and know us not?

Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me
In this strange death of life to be,
To live in death and be the same,
Without this life or home or name,
At once to be and not to be—
That was and is not—yet to see
Things pass like shadows, and the sky
Above, below, around us lie?

The land of shadows wilt thou trace,
Nor look nor know each other's face;
The present marred with reason gone,
And past and present both as one?
Say, maiden, can thy life be led
To join the living and the dead?
Then trace thy footsteps on with me:
We are wed to one eternity.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“Yet simple souls, their faith it knows no stint:
Things least to be believed are most preferred.
All counterfeits, as from truth's sacred mint,
Are readily believed if once put down in print”
― John Clare

“My illness was love, though I knew not the smart,
But the beauty of love was the blood of my heart.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“Evening Primrose

When once the sun sinks in the west,
And dewdrops pearl the evening's breast;
Almost as pale as moonbeams are,
Or its companionable star,
The evening primrose opes anew
Its delicate blossoms to the dew;
And, hermit-like, shunning the light,
Wastes its fair bloom upon the night,
Who, blindfold to its fond caresses,
Knows not the beauty it possesses;
Thus it blooms on while night is by;
When day looks out with open eye,
Bashed at the gaze it cannot shun,
It faints and withers and is gone.”
― John Clare, Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery

“Hill tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run;
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“First Love

I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale,
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start—
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice?
Is love’s bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love's appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“O take me from the busy crowd,
I cannot bear the noise!
For Nature's voice is never loud;
I seek for quiet joys.
The book I love is everywhere,
And not in idle words;
The book I love is known to all,
And better lore affords.”
― John Clare, The Later Poems, 1837-1864

“I loved thee, though I told thee not,
Right earlily and long, thou wert joy of my ever spot
theme of my every song.”
― John Clare, John Clare: Selected Letters

“Remember us better than we are.”
― John Clare

“لم أعتقد يوما أن الأفراح يمكن أن تهرب من الأولاد أو أن الأولاد سيغيرون رأيهم وينسون افراح صيف„ كتلك
لكني لم أحلم ولو قليلا بأن هناك العابا” اخرى قد امتلكها هذا العالم.

تذكارات - جون كلير”
― John Clare

“How frail the bloom, how short the stay
That terminates us all!
Today we flourish green and gay,
Like leaves tomorrow fall.”
― John Clare, Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery

“In crime and enmity they lie
Who sin and tell us love can die,
Who say to us in slander's breath
That love belongs to sin and death.”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript

“There is a charm in Solitude that cheers
A feeling that the world knows nothing of
A green delight the wounded mind endears
After the hustling world is broken off”
― John Clare, John Clare: Selected Poetry and Prose

“I find more pleasure in wandering the fields than in musing among my silent neighbours who are insensible to everything but toiling and talking of it and that to no purpose.”
― John Clare

“harm falls most in mans destroying way”
― John Clare, Poems of the Middle Period, Vol. V: 1822-1837

“O I never thought that joys would run away from boys,
Or that boys would change their minds and forsake such summer joys;
But alack I never dreamed that the world had other toys”
― John Clare, Poems Chiefly from Manuscript