I long for scenes where man hath 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
About This Quote

This is one of the most beautiful love poems ever written. It touches the heart of every man who’s ever fallen in love. Longing to be close to your loved one, to feel her touch, to hear her voice, to take her in your arms and hold her close. The desire for a special place where you can be with your loved one is what makes this poem so powerful. Being able to see the stars from a special place with your lover is another meaning.

Source: The Later Poems, 18371864: Volumes I And Ii

Some Similar Quotes
  1. Perhaps the truth depends on a walk around the lake. - Wallace Stevens

  2. To be great, be whole; Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you. Be whole in everything. Put all you are Into the smallest thing you do. So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor Because it blooms up above. - Fernando Pessoa

  3. The poet's job is to put into words those feelings we all have that are so deep, so important, and yet so difficult to name, to tell the truth in such a beautiful way, that people cannot live without it. - Jane Kenyon

  4. Truth is a friendthat asks for loyaltyand acceptancethen it enters our heartsdissolving the boundariesfreeing us from lonliness - Nirmala

  5. Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness. - Kahlil Gibran

More Quotes By John Clare
  1. In crime and enmity they lie Who sin and tell us love can die, Who say to us in slander's breath That love belongs to sin and death.

  2. I am–yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes– They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live–like vapours...

  3. I found the poems in the fields, And only wrote them down.

  4. O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away

  5. I am–yet what I am none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes– They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live–like vapours...

Related Topics