by John Clare (1793 - 1864)
Morning
Language: English
O now the crimson east, its fire-streak burning, Tempts me to wander 'neath the blushing morn, Winding the zig-zag lane, turning and turning, As winds the crooked fence's wilder'd thorn. Where is the eye can gaze upon the blushes, Unmov'd, with which yon cloudless heaven flushes? I cannot pass the very bramble, weeping 'Neath dewy tear-drops that its spears surround, Like harlot's mockery on the wan cheek creeping, Gilding the poison that is meant to wound; - I cannot pass the bent, ere gales have shaken Its transient crowning off, each point adorning, - But all the feelings of my soul awaken, To own the witcheries of most lovely Morning.
Authorship:
- by John Clare (1793 - 1864), "Morning", appears in The Village Minstrel, and Other Poems, first published 1821 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Richard Roderick-Jones (b. 1947), "Morning", 1967 [alto, flute, oboe, clarinet, violin, viola, and violoncello], from Carmina Laeta (1967) [text not verified]
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2008-07-22
Line count: 14
Word count: 110