The Shepherds Calendar - July Poem Rhyme Scheme

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John Clare

The Shepherds Calendar - July Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Daughter of pastoral smells and sights	A
And sultry days and dewy nights	A
July resumes her yearly place	B
Wi her milking maiden face	B
Ruddy and tand yet sweet to view	C
When everywhere's a vale of dew	C
And raps it round her looks that smiles	D
A lovly rest to daily toils	E
Wi last months closing scenes and dins	E
Her sultry beaming birth begins	E
	-
Hay makers still in grounds appear	F
And some are thinning nearly clear	F
Save oddly lingering shocks about	G
Which the tithman counteth out	G
Sticking their green boughs where they go	H
The parsons yearly claims to know	H
Which farmers view wi grudging eye	I
And grumbling drive their waggons bye	I
In hedge bound close and meadow plains	E
Stript groups of busy bustling swains	E
From all her hants wi noises rude	J
Drives to the wood lands solitude	J
That seeks a spot unmarkd wi paths	E
Far from the close and meadow swaths	E
Wi smutty song and story gay	K
They cart the witherd smelling hay	K
Boys loading on the waggon stand	L
And men below wi sturdy hand	L
Heave up the shocks on lathy prong	M
While horse boys lead the team along	M
And maidens drag the rake behind	N
Wi light dress shaping to the wind	N
And trembling locks of curly hair	O
And snow white bosoms nearly bare	O
That charms ones sight amid the hay	K
Like lingering blossoms of the may	K
From clowns rude jokes they often turn	P
And oft their cheeks wi blushes burn	P
From talk which to escape a sneer	F
They oft affect as not to hear	Q
Some in the nooks about the ground	R
Pile up the stacks swelld bellying round	R
The milking cattles winter fare	O
That in the snow are fodderd there	O
Warm spots wi black thorn thickets lind	S
And trees to brake the northern wind	N
While masters oft the sultry hours	E
Will urge their speed and talk of showers	E
When boy from home trotts to the stack	T
Wi dinner upon dobbins back	T
And bottles to the saddle tyd	N
Or ballancd upon either side	N
A horse thats past his toiling day	N
Yet still a favorite in his way	N
That trotts on errands up and down	U
The fields and too and fro from town	U
Long ere his presence comes in sight	N
Boys listen wi heart felt delight	N
And know his footsteps down the road	N
Hastening wi the dinner load	N
Then they seek in close or meadows	E
High hedgerows wi grey willow shadows	E
To hide beneath from sultry noon	V
And rest them at their dinner boon	V
Where helping shepherd for the lass	E
Will seek a hillock on the grass	E
The thickset hedge or stack beside	N
Where teazing pismires ne'er abide	N
And when tis found down drops the maid	N
Proud wi the kind attention paid	N
And still the swain wi notice due	N
Waits on her all the dinner through	N
And fills her horn which she tho dry	I
In shoyness often pushes bye	I
While he will urge wi many a smile	W
It as a strength to help her toil	X
And in her hand will oft contrive	Y
From out his pocket pulld to slive	Y
Stole fruit when no one turns his eve	Y
To wet her mouth when shes adry	I
Offerd when she refuses ale	Z
Noons sultry labour to regale	Z
Teazd wi the countless multitude	N
Of flyes that every where intrude	N
While boys wi boughs will often try	I
To beat them from them as they lye	I
Who find their labour all in vain	A2
And soon as scard they swarm again	B2
Thus while each swain and boy and lass	E
Sit at their dinner on the grass	E
The teams wi gears thrown on their backs	E
Stand pulling at the shocks or racks	E
Switching their tails and turning round	N
To knap the gadflys teazing wound	N
While dob that brought the dinners load	N
Too tricky to be turnd abroad	N
Needing the scuttle shook wi grain	A2
To coax him to be caught again	B2
Is to a tree at tether tyd	N
Ready for boy to mount and ride	N
Nipping the grass about his pound	N
And stamping battering hooves around	N
Soon as each ground is clear of hay	N
The shepherd whoops his flocks away	N
From fallow fields to plentys scenes	E
Shining as smooth as bowling greens	E
But scard wi clipping tides alarms	E
They bleat about the close in swarms	E
And hide neath hedges in the cool	Z
Still panting tho wi out their whool	Z
Markd wi the tard brands lasting dye	I
And make a restless hue and cry	I
Answering the lambs that call again	B2
And for their old dams seek in vain	A2
Running mid the stranger throng	M
And ever meeting wi the wrong	M
Fiegn wi some old yoe to abide	N
Who smells and tosses them aside	N
And some as if they know its face	E
Will meet a lamb wi mended pace	E
But proving hopes indulgd in vain	A2
They turn around and blair again	B2
Till weand from memory half forgot	N
They spread and feed and notice not	N
Save now and then to lambs shrill crys	E
Odd yoes in hoarser tone replys	E
Still may be seen the mowing swain	A2
On balks between the fields of grain	A2
Who often stops his thirst to ease	E
To pick the juicy pods of pease	E
And oft as chances bring to pass	E
Stoops oer his scythe stuck in the grass	E
To seek the brimming honey comb	C2
Which bees so long were toiling home	C2
And rifld from so many flowers	E
And carried thro so many hours	E
He tears their small hives mossy ball	Z
Where the brown labourers hurded all	Z
Who gather homward one by one	D2
And see their nest and honey gone	E2
Humming around his rushing toil	Z
Their mellancholly wrongs awhile	Z
Then oer the sweltering swaths they stray	N
And hum disconsolate away	N
And oft neath hedges cooler screen	F2
Where meadow sorrel lingers green	F2
Calld 'sour grass' by the knowing clown	U
The mower gladly chews it down	U
And slakes his thirst the best he may	N
When singing brooks are far away	N
And his hoopd bottle woeful tale	Z
Is emptied of its cheering ale	Z
That lulld him in unconsious sleep	G2
At dinners hour beneath a heap	G2
Of grass or bush or edding shock	H2
Till startld by the country clock	H2
That told the hours his toil had lost	N
Who coud but spare an hour at most	N
And wearing past the setting sun	D2
He stays to get his labour done	D2
The gipsey down the meadow brook	I2
Wi long pole and reaping hook	I2
Tyd at its end amid the streams	E
That glitters wi the hot sunbeams	E
Reachs and cuts the bulrush down	U
And hawks them round each neighboring town	U
Packd at his back or tyd in loads	E
On asses down the dusty roads	E
He jogs and shouts from door to door	I
His well known note of calling oer	I
Offering to huswives cheap repairs	E
Mending their broken bottomd chairs	E
Wi step half walk half dance and eye	I
Ready to smile on passers bye	I
Wi load well suiting weather warm	J2
Tuckd carlessly beneath his arm	K2
Or peeping coat and side between	F2
In woolen bag of faded green	F2
Half conseald and half displayd	N
A purpose tell tale to his trade	N
The gipsey fiddler jogs away	N
To village feast and holiday	N
Scraping in public house to trye	I
What beer his music will supply	I
From clowns who happy wi the din	L2
Dance their hand naild hilos thin	L2
Along the roads in passing crowds	E
Followd by dust like smoaking clouds	E
Scotch droves of beast a little breed	N
In swelterd weary mood proceed	N
A patient race from scottish hills	E
To fatten by our pasture rills	E
Lean wi the wants of mountain soil	Z
But short and stout for travels toil	Z
Wi cockd up horns and curling crown	U
And dewlap bosom hanging down	U
Followd by slowly pacing swains	E
Wild to our rushy flats and plains	E
At whom the shepherds dog will rise	E
And shake himself and in supprise	E
Draw back and waffle in affright	N
Barking the traveller out of sight	N
And mowers oer their scythes will bear	I
Upon their uncooth dress to stare	I
And shepherds as they trample bye	I
Leaves oer their hooks a wondering eye	I
To witness men so oddly clad	N
In petticoats of banded plad	N
Wi blankets oer their shoulders slung	M2
To camp at night the fields among	M2
When they for rest on commons stop	N2
And blue cap like a stocking top	N2
Cockt oer their faces summer brown	U
Wi scarlet tazzeles on the crown	U
Rude patterns of the thistle flower	I
Untrickd and open to the shower	I
And honest faces fresh and free	I
That breath of mountain liberty	I
The pindar on the sabbath day	N
Soon as the darkness waxes grey	N
Before one sun beam oer the ground	N
Spindles its light and shadow round	N
Goes round the fields at early morn	O2
To see what stock are in the corn	O2
To see what chances sheep may win	L2
Thro gaps the gipsey pilfers thin	L2
Or if theyve forcd a restless way	N
By rubbing at a loosend tray	N
Or nuzling colt that trys to catch	P2
A gate at night left off the latch	P2
By traveller seeking home in haste	N
Or the clown by fareys chas'd	N
That listning while he makes a stand	N
Opens each gat	N