Lines by Heart: Autumn by John Clare
Written by Rachael Norris, 13th September 2020
The theme for our #DailyReadings in September is beginnings and endings. For this week's Lines by Heart challenge, Learning and Quality Leader Natalie recites Autumn by John Clare. Put yourself to the test and see if you can memorise this poem to recite aloud.
Autumn
The thistledown's flying, though the winds are all still,
On the green grass now lying, now mounting the hill,
The spring from the fountain now boils like a pot;
Through stones past the counting it bubbles red-hot.
The ground parched and cracked is like overbaked bread,
The greensward all wracked is, bents dried up and dead.
The fallow fields glitter like water indeed,
And gossamers twitter, flung from weed unto weed.
Hill-tops like hot iron glitter bright in the sun,
And the rivers we're eying burn to gold as they run;
Burning hot is the ground, liquid gold is the air;
Whoever looks round sees Eternity there.
John Clare
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