Clock-a-clay
Richard Rodney Bennett, John Clare
In the cowslip pips I lie
Hidden from a buzzing fly
While green grass beneath me lies
Pearled with dew like fishes' eyes
Here I lie, a clock-a-clay
Waiting for the time of day
While [the]1 forest quakes surprise
And the wild wind sobs and sighs
My home rocks as like to fall
On its pillar green and tall
While the pattering rain drives by
Clock-a-clay keeps warm and dry
Day by day and night by night
All the week I hide from sight
In the cowslip pips I lie
In rain and dew still warm and dry
Day and night and night and day
Red, black-spotted clock-a-clay
My home shakes in wind and showers
Pale green pillar topped with flowers
Bending at the wild wind’s breath
Till I touch the grass beneath;
Here I live, lone clock-a-clay
Watching for the time of day