Rites of (late) Spring?
Or John Clare?
Now summer cometh I with staff in hand
Will hie me to the Sabbath of her joys -
To healthy spots & the unbroken land
Of woodland heritage unknown to noise
& toil - save many a playful band
Of dancing insects that well understand
The sweets of life & with attuned voice
Sing in sweet concert to the pleasant may
There by a little bush I'll listening rest
To hear the nightingale a lovers lay
Chaunt by his mate who builds her carless nest
Of oaken leaves on thorn stumps mossed & grey
Feeling with them I too am truly blest
By making Sabbaths of each common day
Many a playful band of dancing insects that well understand the sweets of life.
And keep us enchanted by the chaunting.
Given debates berween Clare and publishers, carless may be still more exact than careless.