Thursday, July 20, 2006

salter's tree

Huge Elm thy rifted trunk all notched and scarred
Like to a warrior's destiny - I love
To stretch me often on such shadowed sward
And hear the sighs of summer leaves above
Or on thy buttressed roots to sit and lean
In careless attitude and there reflect
On times and deeds and darings that have been
Old cast aways now swallowed in neglect
While thou art towering in thy strength of heart
Stirring the soul to vain imaginings
In which life's sordid being hath no part
The wind in that eternal ditty sings
Humming of future things that burns the mind
To leave some fragment of itself behind.


John Clare

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