Patty Of The Vale by John Clare Lyrics

A weedling child on lonely lea
My evening rambles chanced to see
And much the weedling tempted me
To crop its tender flower

Exposed to wind and heavy rain
It's head bow'd lowly on the plain
Hand silently it seem'd in pain
Of life's endanger'd hour

And and wilt thou bid my bloom decay
And crop my flower, and me betray
And cast my injured sweets away?
Its silence seemly sigh'd

'A moment's idol of thy mind!
And is a stranger so unkind
to leave the shameful root behind
Bereft of all its pride?

And so it seemly did complain
And beating fell the heavy rain
And low it droop'd upon the plain
To fate resign'd to fall
My heart did melt at its decline
And ' Come,' said I, ' thou gem divine
My fate shall stand the storm with thine
So took the root and all