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The poem ‘Autumn’ by John Clare, is a pen-picture of the autumn season’s serene beauty. Harvest or fall are other names for autumn. It is the time of year when the temperature begins to drop and the weather begins to shift, becoming neither too hot nor too cold. Strong winds, falling leaves, bare trees, and dancing birds are how John Clare portrays autumn.
About The Poet
John Clare was an English poet who lived from July 13, 1793, until May 20, 1864. He became recognized for his joys of the English countryside and tears over its devastation as the son of a farm labourer. John Clare has been deemed the finest English-language nature poet.
Theme Of The Poem
The poet John Clare paints a striking image of autumn’s glory in the countryside in this poem. It is marked by shedding leaves, bare trees, and strong winds, thus according numerous accounts of its beauty. John Clare combines the glory of fall with his own beautiful will in this poem.
I love the fitfull gusts that shakes The casement all the day And from the mossy elm tree takes The faded leaf away Twirling it by the window-pane With thousand others down the lane
The poet expresses his affection for the wind that rattles the casement throughout the day and takes all the fading leaves from the mossy elm-tree and twirls them near the window glass, as well as hundreds of other leaves whirled by the wind along the lane.
I love to see the shaking twig Dance till the shut of eve The sparrow on the cottage rig Whose chirp would make believe That spring was just now flirting by In summers lap with flowers to lie
Clare also enjoys seeing the twig that shakes in the fall weather and dances till the twilight. The sparrow perches on the cottage roof, and its chirping notes convince us that spring has just brushed us by.
I love to see the cottage smoke Curl upwards through the naked trees The pigeons nestled round the coat On dull November days like these The cock upon the dung-hill crowing The mill sails on the heath agoing
The poet enjoys seeing the smoke from the cottage curl upward through the bare trees. The pigeons wander around their nest on gloomy November days, while the cock crows on a hill of animal manure. The mill is constantly moving through the fields.
The feather from the ravens breast Falls on the stubble lea The acorns near the old crows nest Fall pattering down the tree The grunting pigs that wait for all Scramble and hurry where they fall
Raven’s plumes fall on the stubble lea. The fruit acorn falls from the tree near the old crow’s nest in the autumn, producing a clattering sound, and the pigs grunt and wait for everyone in a frenzy to grab those fruits.