Sign up to save your podcasts
Or
Share Written in Northampton County Asylum by John Clare
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Share to email
Share to Facebook
Share to X
Or
Written in Northampton County Asylum by John Clare
Clare read by Classic Poetry Aloud:
http://classicpoetryaloud.podomatic.com/
Giving voice to classic poetry.
---------------------------------------------------
Written in Northampton County Asylum
by John Clare
I am! yet what I am who cares, or knows?
My friends forsake me like a memory lost.
I am the self-consumer of my woes;
They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.
And yet I am—I live—though I am toss'd
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dream,
Where there is neither sense of life, nor joys,
But the huge shipwreck of my own esteem
And all that 's dear. Even those I loved the best
Are strange—nay, they are stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod—
For scenes where woman never smiled or wept—
There to abide with my Creator, God, 15
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie,—
The grass below; above, the vaulted sky.
View all episodes
By Classic Poetry Aloud
4.3
149149 ratings
Clare read by Classic Poetry Aloud:
http://classicpoetryaloud.podomatic.com/
Giving voice to classic poetry.
---------------------------------------------------
Written in Northampton County Asylum
by John Clare
I am! yet what I am who cares, or knows?
My friends forsake me like a memory lost.
I am the self-consumer of my woes;
They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.
And yet I am—I live—though I am toss'd
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dream,
Where there is neither sense of life, nor joys,
But the huge shipwreck of my own esteem
And all that 's dear. Even those I loved the best
Are strange—nay, they are stranger than the rest.
I long for scenes where man has never trod—
For scenes where woman never smiled or wept—
There to abide with my Creator, God, 15
And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,
Full of high thoughts, unborn. So let me lie,—
The grass below; above, the vaulted sky.
More shows like Classic Poetry Aloud
View all
This American Life
91,331 Listeners
The Moth
27,013 Listeners
TED Talks Daily
11,097 Listeners
Lore
45,003 Listeners
Philosophize This!
15,230 Listeners
The New Yorker: Fiction
3,334 Listeners
Poetry Off the Shelf
440 Listeners
The New Yorker: Poetry
517 Listeners
The Daily
113,219 Listeners
Poetry with Simon Armitage
15 Listeners
The Slowdown: Poetry & Reflection Daily
1,215 Listeners
You're Dead to Me
3,245 Listeners
Poetry Unbound
3,618 Listeners
The Rest Is History
15,495 Listeners
The Ezra Klein Show
16,524 Listeners