To An Early Cowslip.

A poem by John Clare

Cowslip bud, so early peeping,
Warm'd by April's hazard hours;
O'er thy head though sunshine's creeping,
Close the threatening tempest lowers:
Trembling blossom, let me bear thee
To a better, safer home;
Though a fairer blossom wear thee,
Never tempest there shall come:
Mary's bonny breast to charm thee,
Bosom soft as down can be,
Eyes like any suns to warm thee,
And scores of sweets unknown to me;--
Ah! for joys thou'lt there be meeting,
In a station so divine,
I could wish, what's vain repeating,
Cowslip bud, thy life were mine.

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