First Love - John Clare

I never was struck before that hour

With love so sudden and so sweet.

Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower

And stole my heart way complete.

My face turned pale as deadly pale,

My legs refused to walk away,

And when she looked ”what could I ail?”

My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face

And took my eyesight quite away.

The trees and bushes round the place

Seemed midnight at noonday.

I could not see a single thing,

Words from my eyes did start;

They spoke as chords do from the string,

And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice?

Is Love’s bed always snow?

She seemed to hear my silent voice

And love’s appeal to know.

I never saw so sweet a face

As that I stood before:

My heart has left its dwelling-place

And can return no more.