Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE LOUT, by JOHN CLARE

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THE LOUT, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: For sunday's play he never makes excuses
Last Line: And where hens lay, and when the duck will hatch.
Subject(s): Ignorance; Dullness; Stupdity

For Sunday's play he never makes excuse,
But plays at taw, and buys his Spanish juice.
Hard as his toil, and ever slow to speak,
Yet he gives maidens many a burning cheek;
For none can pass him but his witless grace
Of bawdry brings the blushes in her face.
As vulgar as the dirt he treads upon,
He calls his cows or drives his horses on;
He knows the tamest cow and strokes her side
And often tries to mount her back and ride,
And takes her tail at night in idle play,
And makes her drag him homeward all the way.
He knows of nothing but the football match,
And where hens lay, and when the duck will hatch.

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