The Shepherds Calendar - May Poem Rhyme Scheme

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John Clare

The Shepherds Calendar - May Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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Come queen of months in company	A
Wi all thy merry minstrelsy	B
The restless cuckoo absent long	C
And twittering swallows chimney song	C
And hedge row crickets notes that run	D
From every bank that fronts the sun	D
And swathy bees about the grass	B
That stops wi every bloom they pass	B
And every minute every hour	E
Keep teazing weeds that wear a flower	E
And toil and childhoods humming joys	B
For there is music in the noise	B
The village childern mad for sport	F
In school times leisure ever short	F
That crick and catch the bouncing ball	G
And run along the church yard wall	G
Capt wi rude figured slabs whose claims	B
In times bad memory hath no names	B
Oft racing round the nookey church	H
Or calling ecchos in the porch	I
And jilting oer the weather cock	J
Viewing wi jealous eyes the clock	J
Oft leaping grave stones leaning hights	B
Uncheckt wi mellancholy sights	B
The green grass swelld in many a heap	K
Where kin and friends and parents sleep	K
Unthinking in their jovial cry	L
That time shall come when they shall lye	L
As lowly and as still as they	M
While other boys above them play	M
Heedless as they do now to know	N
The unconcious dust that lies below	N
The shepherd goes wi happy stride	O
Wi moms long shadow by his side	O
Down the dryd lanes neath blooming may	M
That once was over shoes in clay	M
While martins twitter neath his eves	B
Which he at early morning leaves	B
The driving boy beside his team	P
Will oer the may month beauty dream	P
And cock his hat and turn his eye	L
On flower and tree and deepning skye	L
And oft bursts loud in fits of song	C
And whistles as he reels along	C
Crack ing his whip in starts of joy	Q
A happy dirty driving boy	Q
The youth who leaves his corner stool	R
Betimes for neighbouring village school	R
While as a mark to urge him right	S
The church spires all the way in sight	S
Wi cheerings from his parents given	D
Starts neath the joyous smiles of heaven	D
And sawns wi many an idle stand	T
Wi bookbag swinging in his hand	T
And gazes as he passes bye	L
On every thing that meets his eye	L
Young lambs seem tempting him to play	M
Dancing and bleating in his way	M
Wi trembling tails and pointed ears	B
They follow him and loose their fears	B
He smiles upon their sunny faces	B
And feign woud join their happy races	B
The birds that sing on bush and tree	A
Seem chirping for his company	A
And all in fancys idle whim	U
Seem keeping holiday but him	U
He lolls upon each resting stile	V
To see the fields so sweetly smile	V
To see the wheat grow green and long	C
And list the weeders toiling song	C
Or short not e of the changing thrush	W
Above him in the white thorn bush	X
That oer the leaning stile bends low	N
Loaded wi mockery of snow	N
Mozzld wi many a lushing thread	Y
Of crab tree blossoms delicate red	Y
He often bends wi many a wish	Z
Oer the brig rail to view the fish	Z
Go sturting by in sunny gleams	B
And chucks in the eye dazzld streams	B
Crumbs from his pocket oft to watch	A2
The swarming struttle come to catch	B2
Them where they to the bottom sile	N
Sighing in fancys joy the while	N
Hes cautiond not to stand so nigh	L
By rosey milkmaid tripping bye	L
Where he admires wi fond delight	S
And longs to be there mute till night	S
He often ventures thro the day	M
At truant now and then to play	M
Rambling about the field and plain	C2
Seeking larks nests in the grain	C2
And picking flowers and boughs of may	M
To hurd awhile and throw away	M
Lurking neath bushes from the sight	S
Of tell tale eyes till schools noon night	S
Listing each hour for church clocks hum	D2
To know the hour to wander home	E2
That parents may not think him long	C
Nor dream of his rude doing wrong	C
Dreading thro the night wi dreaming pain	C2
To meet his masters wand again	F2
Each hedge is loaded thick wi green	G2
And where the hedger late hath been	H2
Tender shoots begin to grow	N
From the mossy stumps below	N
While sheep and cow that teaze the grain	C2
will nip them to the root again	F2
They lay their bill and mittens bye	L
And on to other labours hie	I2
While wood men still on spring intrudes	B
And thins the shadow solitudes	B
Wi sharpend axes felling down	J2
The oak trees budding into brown	J2
Where as they crash upon the ground	K2
A crowd of labourers gather round	K2
And mix among the shadows dark	L2
To rip the crackling staining bark	L2
From off the tree and lay when done	D
The rolls in lares to meet the sun	D
Depriving yearly where they come	D2
The green wood pecker of its home	E2
That early in the spring began	M2
Far from the sight of troubling man	M2
And bord their round holes in each tree	A
In fancys sweet security	A
Till startld wi the woodmans noise	B
It wakes from all its dreaming joys	B
The blue bells too that thickly bloom	N2
Where man was never feared to come	D2
And smell smocks that from view retires	B
Mong rustling leaves and bowing briars	B
And stooping lilys of the valley	A
That comes wi shades and dews to dally	A
White beady drops on slender threads	B
Wi broad hood leaves above their heads	B
Like white robd maids in summer hours	B
Neath umberellas shunning showers	B
These neath the barkmens crushing treads	B
Oft perish in their blooming beds	B
Thus stript of boughs and bark in white	S
Their trunks shine in the mellow light	S
Beneath the green surviving trees	B
That wave above them in the breeze	B
And waking whispers slowly bends	B
As if they mournd their fallen friends	B
Each morning now the weeders meet	O2
To cut the thistle from the wheat	O2
And ruin in the sunny hours	B
Full many wild weeds of their flowers	B
Corn poppys that in crimson dwell	N
Calld 'head achs' from their sickly smell	N
And carlock yellow as the sun	D
That oer the may fields thickly run	D
And 'iron weed' content to share	P2
The meanest spot that spring can spare	P2
Een roads where danger hourly comes	B
Is not wi out its purple blooms	B
And leaves wi points like thistles round	K2
Thickset that have no strength to wound	K2
That shrink to childhoods eager hold	Q2
Like hair and with its eye of gold	Q2
And scarlet starry points of flowers	B
Pimpernel dreading nights and showers	B
Oft calld 'the shepherds weather glass'	B
That sleep till suns have dyd the grass	B
Then wakes and spreads its creeping bloom	N2
Till clouds or threatning shadows come	D2
Then close it shuts to sleep again	F2
Which weeders see and talk of rain	C2
And boys that mark them shut so soon	R2
will call them 'John go bed at noon	R2
And fumitory too a name	S2
That superstition holds to fame	S2
Whose red and purple mottled flowers	B
Are cropt by maids in weeding hours	B
To boil in water milk and way	M
For washes on an holiday	M
To make their beauty fair and sleak	L2
And scour the tan from summers cheek	L2
And simple small forget me not	T2
Eyd wi a pinshead yellow spot	T2
I'th' middle of its tender blue	N
That gains from poets notice due	N
These flowers the toil by crowds destroys	B
And robs them of their lowly joys	B
That met the may wi hopes as sweet	O2
As those her suns in gardens meet	O2
And oft the dame will feel inclind	O2
As childhoods memory comes to mind	O2
To turn her hook away and spare	P2
The blooms it lovd to gather there	P2
My wild field catalogue of flowers	B
Grows in my ryhmes as thick as showers	B
Tedious and long as they may be	A
To some they never weary me	A
The wood and mead and field of grain	C2
I coud hunt oer and oer again	F2
And talk to every blossom wild	O2
Fond as a parent to a child	O2
And cull them in my childish joy	Q
By swarms and swarms and never cloy	Q
When their lank shades oer morning pearls	B
Shrink from their lengths to little girls	B
And like the clock hand pointing one	D
Is turnd and tells the morning gone	U2
They leave their toils for dinners hour	E
Beneath some hedges bramble bower	E
And season sweet their savory meals	B
Wi joke and tale and merry peals	B
Of ancient tunes from happy tongues	B
While linnets join their fitful songs	B
Perchd oer their heads in frolic play	M
Among the tufts of motling may	M
The young girls whisper things of love	V2
And from the old dames hearing move	W2
Oft making 'love knotts' in the shade	O2
Of blue green oat or wheaten blade	O2
And trying simple charms and spells	B
That rural superstition tells	B
They pull the little blossom threads	B
From out the knapweeds button heads	B
And put the husk wi many a smile	N
In their white bosoms for awhile	N
Who if they guess aright the swain	C2
That loves sweet fancys trys to gain	C2
Tis said that ere its lain an hour	E
Twill blossom wi a second flower	E
And from her white breasts hankerchief	W2
Bloom as they ne'er	P2