And muddys round the place to catch the eels’ … Illustration: Rowan Righelato/The Guardian
The old pond full of flags and fenced around
With trees and bushes trailing to the ground
The water reeds are all around the brink
And one clear place where cattle go to drink
From year to year the schoolboy thither steals
And muddys round the place to catch the eels
The cowboy often hiding from the flies
Lies there and plaits the rushcap as he lies
The hissing owl sits moping all the day
And hears his song and never flies away
The pinks nest hangs upon the branch so thin
The young ones caw and seem as tumbling in
While round them thrums the purple dragon flye
And great white butter flye goes dancing bye
The early acclaim won by the so-called “peasant-poet” John Clare (1793-1864), declined during his middle years, and he was almost penniless by 1823. With the support of friends, he and his family were able to leave his home village Helpston for a larger cottage in Northborough, Cambridgeshire, and this is where he was living when he wrote this week’s poem.
