Summer

Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,
For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom,
And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest,
And love is burning diamonds in my true lover's breast;
She sits beneath the whitethorn a-plaiting of her hair,
And I will to my true lover with a fond request repair;
I will look upon her face, I will in her beauty rest,
And lay my aching weariness upon her lovely breast.

The clock-a-clay is creeping on the open bloom of May,
The merry bee is trampling the pinky threads all day,
And the chaffinch it is brooding on its grey mossy nest
In the whitethorn bush where I will lean upon my lover's breast;
I'll lean upon her breast and I'll whisper in her ear
That I cannot get a wink o'sleep for thinking of my dear;
I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away
Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.

by John Clare

Comments (3)

I liked this poem very sweet and quite sad
With Hardy, as later with Auden and Frost, simplicity is the keynote of the best poems. The cessation of rain causes rejoicing with the girl but not the poet, and it is this simple contrast that makes the poem.
Hardy as a poet, has his own place in the history of English Literature. Pessimsm has been the hallmark of his poetry and this poem is also no exception.He deals with the grim and harsh realities of life with great realism and less sentimentality, that's why he doesn't romanticize human life. This poem is burdened with insatiable thirst of love and unfulfilled emotions of the poet and Hardy has expressed them with great dextirity.