Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DEATH-MASK OF JOHN CLARE, by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE DEATH-MASK OF JOHN CLARE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Kind was the hand that at the last
Last Line: Your prison with a smile.
Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund
Subject(s): Clare, John (1793-1864)


KIND was the hand that at the last
This mortal likeness drew,
And more than kindness took the cast --
'Twas prophecy, come true.

Doubt surely questioned, why record
This old forgotten face?
But after-time with love's reward
Has blessed the act of grace.

So, Clare, your rich, sweet, serious gaze
Meets me through sixty years,
Now sets my wonderment ablaze,
Now fascinates my tears.

I think when young you blushed among
The gay town's curious eyes;
How tripped the truth from beauty's tongue,
"A noble in disguise!"

God's noble, slave of earth, upraised
To bright conception's song,
And by the world down dashed and dazed,
How held you out so long?

For even the raven's young, you said,
Are answered when they cry,
But when your children wanted bread,
At length the stony sky

Seemed all one frown! the tired mind groaned
Defeat day after day,
And purpose to the dust dethroned
In riddles mocked the play.

Then from loved fields, from wife, from child,
You helplessly were haled;
Where the thronged mad high heaven reviled
Was freedom's friend enjailed.

Twenty dim years you lived where some
Gnash ivy from the wall,
And other shrieking, others dumb
With their dark daemons brawl.

Still welcomed you the bee and bird
In morning's crystal dew,
Still garlanded with spring-like word
Spring's "gold yminted new."

A thrall, you reached the allotted span,
Your countenance wore no sign
Of your Bastille, you looked the Man,
Serene and nigh divine.

Came death; the boundary wall was cleft,
Green pastures mile on mile
Gleamed flowers your childhood knew, you left
Your prison with a smile.





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