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The Dying Child

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  02 January 2018

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Extract

      He could not die when trees were green,
      For he loved the time too well.
      His little hands, when flowers were seen,
      Were held for the bluebell,
      As he was carried o'er the green.

Type
Research Article
Copyright
Copyright © The Royal College of Psychiatrists 2008 

The Dying Child

He could not die when trees were green,
For he loved the time too well.
His little hands, when flowers were seen,
Were held for the bluebell,
As he was carried o'er the green.
His eye glanced at the white-nosed bee;
He knew those children of the spring:
When he was well and on the lea
He held one in his hands to sing,
Which filled his heart with glee.
Infants, the children of the spring!
How can an infant die
When butterflies are on the wing,
Green grass, and such a sky?
How can they die at spring?
He held his hands for daisies white,
And then for violets blue,
And took them all to bed at night
That in the green fields grew,
As childhood's sweet delight.
And then he shut his little eyes,
And flowers would notice not;
Birds' nests and eggs caused no surprise,
He now no blossoms got;
They met with plaintive sighs.
When winter came and blasts did sigh,
And bare were plain and tree,
As he for ease in bed did lie
His soul seemed with the free,
He died so quietly.

John Clare (1793–1864) was born in Helpston to an agricultural labouring family. He came to prominence in 1820 after Poems, Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery was published. Between 1833 and 1837 he became increasingly depressed. He was certified insane in 1837 and treated at Dr Allen's private asylum at High Beach in Epping Forest until 1841, when he escaped. He was certified insane for a second time in December 1841 and spent the rest of his life at Northampton General Lunatic Asylum. It was here that he wrote ‘The Dying Child’. He continued to write until close to his death. Many of the poems written in the asylum years were transcribed and preserved by William Knight, an asylum steward.

Poem selected by Professor Femi Oyebode

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