John Clare feels lonely and forgotten by friends. He consumes his own sorrows as they rise and vanish in an oblivious host like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes. Though he lives, he feels tossed into the nothingness of scorn and noise, where there is no sense of life or joy, just the vast shipwreck of his life's esteems. Even those closest to him now seem strange. He longs for untouched scenes where he can abide with his Creator and sleep as peacefully as he did in childhood.
John Clare feels lonely and forgotten by friends. He consumes his own sorrows as they rise and vanish in an oblivious host like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes. Though he lives, he feels tossed into the nothingness of scorn and noise, where there is no sense of life or joy, just the vast shipwreck of his life's esteems. Even those closest to him now seem strange. He longs for untouched scenes where he can abide with his Creator and sleep as peacefully as he did in childhood.
John Clare feels lonely and forgotten by friends. He consumes his own sorrows as they rise and vanish in an oblivious host like shadows in love's frenzied stifled throes. Though he lives, he feels tossed into the nothingness of scorn and noise, where there is no sense of life or joy, just the vast shipwreck of his life's esteems. Even those closest to him now seem strange. He longs for untouched scenes where he can abide with his Creator and sleep as peacefully as he did in childhood.