On a Lane in Spring

A Little Lane, the brook runs close beside

And spangles in the sunshine while the fish glide swiftly by

And hedges leafing with the green spring tide

Form out their greenery the old birds fly

And chirp and whistle in the morning sun

The pilewort glitters ‘neath the pale blue sky

The little robin has its nest begun

And grass green linnets round the bushes fly

How Mild the Spring Comes in; the daisy buds

Lift up their golden blossoms to the sky

How lovely are the pingles and the woods

Here a beetle runs; and there a fly

Rests on the Arum leaf in bottle green

And all the Spring in this Sweet lane is seen

[Pingle = small paddock; Pile wort = lesser celandine]

By John Clare (1793-1864)