by : John Clare (1793 - 1864), Henry Gibson
Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly,
I hid my love to my despite
Till i could not bear to look at the light:
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where'er I saw wild a flower lie
I kissed and bade my love good-bye.
I met her in the greenest dells,
Where dewdrops pearl the wood bluebells;
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,
The bee kissed and went by,
A sunbeam found a passage there,
A gold chain round her neck so fair;
As secret as the wild bee's song
She lay there all the summer long.
I hid my love in field and town
till e'en the breeze would knocked me down;
the bees seemed singing the ballads o'er,
The fly's bass turned a lion's roar;
And even silence found a tongue,
To haunt me all the summer long;
The riddle nature could not prove
Was nothing else but secret love.