I long for scenes where man has never trod,|
A place where woman never smiled or wept--
There to abide with my Creator, God,
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Untroubling and untroubled where I lie,
The grass below--above the vaulted sky.
-John Clare (1793-1864), I am,
written while he was confined in the General Lunatic
Asylum in Northampton, where he spent about the last
third of his life.
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