John ClareO I never thought that joys would run away from boys, Or that boys would change their minds and forsake such summer joys; But alack I never dreamed that the world had other toys
About This Quote
This quote is about how young boys used to play in the summertime. They would go out and spend all day playing with the children of the town. The boys would do whatever they wanted to do, just run around and have fun. There was very little stress involved in the thoughts of the children.
When they got older, this type of play changed drastically. When they were young, they were free of stress, life was good and they were happy. When they got older, they became stressed because of school work and relationships.
They had responsibilities that made them think about what was really important in life. The change in their lives drove them to grow up too fast and it eventually ruined their childhood years.
Source: Poems Chiefly From Manuscript
Some Similar Quotes
- I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you,...
- I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
- We love the things we love for what they are.
- I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhereI go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my...
- Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.
More Quotes By John Clare
- 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.
- 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...
- I found the poems in the fields, And only wrote them down.
- O words are poor receipts for what time hath stole away
- 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...