Here sparrows build upon the trees,
And stockdove hides her nest;
The leaves are winnowed by the breeze
Into a calmer rest;
The black-cap's song was very sweet,
That used the rose to kiss;
It made the Paradise complete:
My early home was this.
The red-breast from the sweetbriar bush
Drop't down to pick the worm;
On the horse-chestnut sang the thrush,
O'er the house where I was born;
The moonlight, like a shower of pearls,
Fell o'er this "bower of bliss,"
And on the bench sat boys and girls:
My early home was this.
The old house stooped just like a cave,
Thatched o'er with mosses green;
Winter around the walls would rave,
But all was calm within;
The trees are here all green agen,
Here bees the flowers still kiss,
But flowers and trees seemed sweeter then:
My early home was this.
My Early Home
John Clare
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Poem topics: horse, red, rose, song, winter, sweet, paradise, complete, black, moonlight, green, house, kiss, home, early, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Write your comment about My Early Home poem by John Clare
Maire Maguinness: This is a beautiful poem, full of imagery and nostalgia. The seemingly a better place to live.
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