Quotes by John Clare

John Clare

Ah, words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away.

Poor

Receipts

And fairy month of waking mirth From whom our joys ensue Thou early gladder of the earth Thrice welcome here anew With thee the bud unfolds to leaves The grass greens on the lea And flowers their tender boon receives To bloom and smile with thee.

Flower

Joy

Spring

And what is Life? – An hour-glass on the run

Glasses

Hours

Running

Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.

Air

Gold

Hot

Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude / And flew to the silence of sweet solitude.

Rude

Silence

Sweet

For Nature is love, and finds haunts for true love, Where nothing can hear or intrude; It hides from the eagle and joins with the dove, In beautiful green solitude.

Beautiful

Eagles

Nature

Forgive me if, in friendship’s way, I offer thee a wreath of May…. [N]ourished by the dews of heaven…. So I have Ivy placed between, To prove that worth is ever green. The little blue Forget-me-not… Spring’s messenger in every spot, Smiling on all—”Remember me!

Blue

Ivy

Spring

He could not die when the trees were green, For he loved the time too well.

Green

Time

Tree

How oft a summer shower has started me; to seek the shelter of a hollow tree

Nature

Summer

Tree

I am gennerally understood tho I do not use that awkward squad of pointings called commas colons semicolons etc.

Awkward

Squad

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Air

Awkward

Beautiful

Bed

Blessing

Blooming

Blue

Byron

Children

Chill

Consumers

Creator God

Dark

Degrees

Despair

Dread

Dream

Drinking

Eagles

Empty

Ends

Enemy

Eye

Fall

Fate

Fields

Flower

Found

Funeral

Glasses

Gold

Gratitude

Green

Heart

Heaven

Her Smile

Hot

Hours

Ifs

Illumination

Ivy

Joy

Lazy

Lonely

Long

Love

Love Life

Lust

Lying

Memories

The Future Blueprint

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The Home Therapist: Anti Anxiety

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Quotes by John Clare

John Clare

Ah, words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away.

And fairy month of waking mirth From whom our joys ensue Thou early gladder of the earth Thrice welcome here anew With thee the bud unfolds to leaves The grass greens on the lea And flowers their tender boon receives To bloom and smile with thee.

And what is Life? – An hour-glass on the run

Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air; Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.

Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude / And flew to the silence of sweet solitude.

For Nature is love, and finds haunts for true love, Where nothing can hear or intrude; It hides from the eagle and joins with the dove, In beautiful green solitude.

Forgive me if, in friendship’s way, I offer thee a wreath of May…. [N]ourished by the dews of heaven…. So I have Ivy placed between, To prove that worth is ever green. The little blue Forget-me-not… Spring’s messenger in every spot, Smiling on all—”Remember me!

He could not die when the trees were green, For he loved the time too well.

How oft a summer shower has started me; to seek the shelter of a hollow tree

I am gennerally understood tho I do not use that awkward squad of pointings called commas colons semicolons etc.

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