Now is Past

By John Clare

Now is past — the happy now

When we together roved

Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough

And Nature said we loved.

Winter's blast

The now since then has crept between,

And left us both apart.

Winters that withered all the green

Have froze the beating heart.

Now is past.

Now is past since last we met

Beneath the hazel bough;

Before the evening sun was set

Her shadow stretched below.

Autumn's blast

Has stained and blighted every bough;

Wild strawberries like her lips

Have left the mosses green below,

Her bloom's upon the hips.

Now is past.

Now is past, is changed agen,

The woods and fields are painted new.

Wild strawberries which both gathered then,

None know now where they grew.

The skys oercast.

Wood strawberries faded from wood sides,

Green leaves have all turned yellow;

No Adelaide walks the wood rides,

True love has no bed-fellow.

Now is past.