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Life and Remains of John Clare

by John Clare

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Adieu!

“Adieu, my love, adieu!
  Be constant and be true
  As the daisies gemmed with dew,
  Bonny maid.”
  The cows their thirst were slaking,
  Trees the playful winds were shaking;
  Sweet songs the birds were making
  In the shade.

The moss upon the tree
  Was as green as green could be,
  The clover on the lea
  Ruddy glowed;
  Leaves were silver with the dew,
  Where the tall sowthistles grew,
  And I bade the maid adieu
  On the road.

Then I took myself to sea,
  While the little chiming bee
  Sung his ballad on the lea,
  Humming sweet;
  And the red-winged butterfly
  Was sailing through the sky,
  Skimming up and bouncing by
  Near my feet.

I left the little birds,
  And sweet lowing of the herds,
  And couldn’t find out words,
  Do you see,
  To say to them good bye,
  Where the yellow cups do lie;
  So heaving a deep sigh,
  Took to sea.

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