O for that sweet, untroubled rest <br />That poets oft have sung!-- <br />The babe upon its mother's breast, <br />The bird upon its young, <br />The heart asleep without a pain-- <br />When shall I know that sleep again? <br /> <br />When shall I be as I have been <br />Upon my mother's breast <br />Sweet Nature's garb of verdant green <br />To woo to perfect rest-- <br />Love in the meadow, field, and glen, <br />And in my native wilds again? <br /> <br />The sheep within the fallow field, <br />The herd upon the green, <br />The larks that in the thistle shield, <br />And pipe from morn to e'en-- <br />O for the pasture, fields, and fen! <br />When shall I see such rest again? <br /> <br />I love the weeds along the fen, <br />More sweet than garden flowers, <br />For freedom haunts the humble glen <br />That blest my happiest hours. <br />Here prison injures health and me: <br />I love sweet freedom and the free. <br /> <br />The crows upon the swelling hills, <br />The cows upon the lea, <br />Sheep feeding by the pasture rills, <br />Are ever dear to me, <br />Because sweet freedom is their mate, <br />While I am lone and desolate. <br /> <br />I loved the winds when I was young, <br />When life was dear to me; <br />I loved the song which Nature sung, <br />Endearing liberty; <br />I loved the wood, the vale, the stream, <br />For there my boyhood used to dream. <br /> <br />There even toil itself was play; <br />Twas pleasure een to weep; <br />Twas joy to think of dreams by day, <br />The beautiful of sleep. <br />When shall I see the wood and plain, <br />And dream those happy dreams again?<br /><br />John Clare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sleep-of-spring/
